


Smoke and Mirrors

by LaoTzu



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Jetko, Freedom Fighters, Jet Alone - Freeform, Jet didn't die, Jet finds a fire nation baby, Jet joins Team Avatar, Jet redemption, Jetko, Jetko Renaissance Week, M/M, More than one chapter, Not all angst, People have told me this story is funny, So I guess its kinda' a comedy, There's romance, To Be Continued, because why not?, heartwarming af, okay a little angst, you can't convince me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaoTzu/pseuds/LaoTzu
Summary: "When they parted, heavy and panting, lips swollen and reddened, the wake of stillness after was nothing but enchanting. Zuko's face was flushed, his hands still knotted, knuckle white, in Jet's tunic. And Jet thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.Jet smiled, meaningfully and truthfully, not an act of any sorts."Hey," he said.Zuko's lips lifted in a shy smile too. "Hey," he repeated."Summary: Jet survived in Ba Sing Se. On his way to reunite with his gang (who he predicts is with the avatar), he is forced to contemplate his morality. He is pit up against situations that question his understanding of the humanity of the Fire Nation. What can he learn from a Fire Nation animal? Or a Fire Nation kid? And eventually... a Fire Nation prince?
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 97
Kudos: 237





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: Violence. Depiction of Suicide. Depiction of non Main Character death.
> 
> “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.”  
> ― Lao Tzu

Couple of Differences Than Canon: Katara had enough spirit water to save Jet and Aang, and Zuko pulled Jet from under the lake (when he was making his escape from freeing Appa), but not before the Dai Li separated Jet from his gang. Oh, and the seasons are a little different. Carry on. 

* * *

The fetor of decay. A deep, metallic hammering. The smell of burning hair and flesh. Wagon wheels on rough earth caused the wooden planks to wobble underneath him. There was someone on top of him. Someone cold and unmoving. More than one person, maybe two. Jet _was_ dead. But now… he's not. They think he's dead. They're burning the dead. He's going to be buried. Or cremated. Or both. He shoved a stiff, bruised arm from on top of his face.

The faces next to him were expressionless, their souls long having left their bodies. Some of their eyes were open. They were in lines and piles next to him. Organized murder on a wagon. He thought he saw a child. He didn't look again to check. His body hurt as he lifted himself to look passed them. There was black smoke in the distance. The walls of Ba Sing Se had deliberate openings down the sides. A man with a straw hat was driving the wagon; An ostrich horse pulling it. Two ostrich horses. One behind the other. The man looked like Earth Kingdom. It didn't matter.

Jet stood, his legs uneven beneath him. He kicked the man in the back of the head, and he slumped off and fell to the dirt. The wagon stopped, and his fingers shook as he undid harsh leather straps. A horse went loose. His swords, he remembered. He looked for his swords. Buried under two men with blank stares, he found them. He shoved their bodies back. The ostrich horse scraped the ground with its feet as Jet climbed on top. There was no saddle. Someone shouted in the distance. He kicked the bird's side, and it went running. He didn't stop until the black smoke had almost cleared from the sky.

 _I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead._ It's all he could think. The trees went by in blurs. He was dead. Now, he's not. How? How is he not dead? His body hurt. He was filthy. There were dead people on top of him. Someone else's blood was on him. He's wasn't alive. This was _Hell._

He stumbled upon a stream in the woods and collapsed into it. He laid there for an uncertain amount of time. The sun went low as he laid. The stream rinsed away the someone else's blood. He wasn't dead. He was alive. The water felt too cool to be Hell. He picked at a smooth, circular stone in his fingertips. The algae picked off and went down with the current. It felt real enough. The ostrich horse pecked bugs from the stream. It looked real enough. The smell of mountain water and damp earth was calming. It smelt real enough. It just somehow still didn't feel real.

Katara. Where was Katara? He shot up, the water dripping from his mangled hair as the air filled his lungs with so much force it hurt. It was air. Not smoke. Not sickening, filthy black smoke. He could breathe lighter. This air was easy.

What happened? He tried to remember as he sat in a cold heap on the rocky shore, his legs dull and unmoving in front of him. His mind was a mess. Katara did something to him. He didn't know what. She saved him. Somehow. She was gone now. She thought he was dead. He told her to leave. She left. Bee and Longshot left too. He remembered that much. They must be with the Avatar. _They all_ were with the Avatar. He wasn't anymore. He wasn't with anyone anymore. Everyone must think he's dead. He felt dead. And alone. And sore. Very sore. But alive. Somehow.

He stripped himself of his wet clothing and hung them to dry. He felt warmer that way. No water on his skin to steal his heat. He felt like an animal. Better to be an animal than dead. It was autumn. The night was chilly. He tried to build a fire, and his muscle memory built it for him. He sat and watched the flames. His clothes, he remembered. They had blood stains, but he could dry them by the fire. He needed them. It was colder now.

He waited too close to the flame. It made his skin hot and red it was so close, but his body still shivered. He didn't know where he was. Outside Ba Sing Se somewhere. _Ba Sing Se._ It had been taken. The Fire Nation took Ba Sing Se. Li had been there. No. Not Li. His name was something else. Zu- something. Zuko. That was his name. That slimy, lying bastard. That Fire Nation prick. Fuck his name. He didn't need to remember it. Fuck his filthy, bitch sister too. And his fat, bastard uncle. They took Ba Sing Se…

But Zuko had pulled him out from under the lake. He vaguely remembered it happening. Otherwise, the Dai Li would have finished him off for good... No, _fuck_ that. He was still Fire Nation. He bended fire. Jet saw it with his own eyes. He had proof now. Everyone saw it. He was right the whole time.

It didn't matter. He was still cold. And shivering. His clothes felt warm to the touch. He slipped them on and fell asleep. He'd figure out what to do in the morning.

* * *

His throat was raw and dry when he awoke. He plunged his hands into the stream and sipped the water. It made him cough black film from his chest. He tried again, this time chugging the water until it jiggled in his stomach when he stood.

"Fuck," he breathed and wiped it from his mouth. He looked around and spotted the ostrich horse. A good horse to have. He didn't even tie it up, and it stayed. It was doing something though; stomping something into the dirt. That must have been what woke him up.

"Hey, whoa, calm it down," he said, raising his hands to calm the animal. It backed away from what it was doing with a frustrated huff. He led it away and tied it up, just in case. It was stomping a snake, a venomous one too. A really good horse to have. It was a dead snake now. Breakfast for this filthy wanderer. He skinned it haphazardly with his hook sword and threw it on the embers from the night before.

Spirits, it tasted like ass though. Gamey and stringy and gross. Better than nothing. At least he had water and food on his stomach. He ate the whole snake, organs and all. Not the intestines though. He wasn't that desperate yet. Good fishing bait though, but no pole. He pondered. He felt ten times better than he did the day before. He could actually think now. He looked for a long stick and fibers for fishing. Maybe something sharp for a spear. He thought as he looked.

He'd have to do something. He couldn't stay here. He had to find Katara and thank her. The more he thought, the more he'd have to do. It was worth it. He needed to find her. He didn't know where she was or where to begin to look. But he'd find her. Bee and Longshot too. Somehow. But to do that, he had to survive. He stabbed two trout with a stick and ate them both. Not a bad breakfast. Not a bad start. He could do this. It wasn't the first time he'd lived in the woods.

He hung his swords from his hips and stared at the ostrich horse. How the hell did he get on this thing last time? It was so tall. There was no saddle to climb. Oh, yeah. He stood on the wagon yesterday. Well, fuck.

"Lay down or something," he said as he gently pulled the reins. It did not lay down. It wasn't a dog. It was a horse. It looked at him curiously.

"Stupid horse," he murmured. He picked up the guts from the snake and held it out to it. What do ostrich horses even eat? Do they eat meat? Maybe. It _seemed_ interested. He held it down, and its nose followed. Maybe they do eat meat. Kinda' gross but whatever.

"You gotta' lay down if you want this," he said, lowering its nose to the ground even more. It tried to peck the guts from his hand, but he wouldn't let it.

"That's it. Nice and easy," he said. Its legs tucked underneath it, and he released the guts. Surprised he'd gotten that far; he slid his legs over the horse's sides and sat on its back. It stayed crouched, much to his dismay. His feet could still touch the ground. "Come on you big idiot, let's go." He tapped the reins against its sides, and it stood suddenly causing him to wobble. He steadied himself and smiled. He could get the hang of this no problem. The real problem was figuring out where the hell to go. He looked around and tried to spot something. Anything.

Nope. Nothing. Just trees.

He followed the stream. Water always led to something.

He walked for three days, picking trout and cattail roots along the way. It was relaxing, in a sense. He'd missed the forest. The night sky was brighter outside of the city. No lights to dim the stars. No walls to hold him in. Just vast, enchanting wilderness. The leaves had begun to turn red and orange and yellow. The breeze pushed them and him along down the stream.

He spotted something on the third day. There was a bridge not big enough for a wagon running over the water. He looked for a sign, but there wasn't one. The path was small, and he had no idea if it would lead to anything at all. Perhaps a hunting run or a path to someone's home from the look of things. He kept on down the stream. That stream held his life in its hands. He couldn't leave it on a whim.

By the two-week checkmark, the nights had gotten so cold his red tunic and armor were no longer cutting it. He veered and took a beaten path up the mountain. He had to find something. Even if it was just a house or an inn. He had to get new clothes and supplies. Trout and berries wouldn't keep him warm at night.

An hour or two up the path, he could smell something cooking in the distance. Something other than trout. His stomach growled, and he held his hand over it to will it to stop.

The house looked like a fairy tale when he arrived. The path leading up to it was lined with buzzing boxes through the trees. A honey bee farm at the top of the mountain. He unclicked the short white gate that surrounded the property, and knee high dandelions brushed against his knees. The steps up to the porch were rickety, and the red paint on the door was peeling and flaking off.

He knocked and waited. Nothing. Not a peep. He tried again but to no avail. It didn't feel right to break in. These people were just homely bee keepers, not some rich bureaucrat or merchant like in Ba Sing Se's upper rings. But the sun was getting low, and the goosebumps rising on his arms told him it didn't matter. He reached for the door handle, and to his surprise, it was unlocked. He stepped inside, and it was dark and stuffy. It looked thoroughly abandoned, his shoes leaving scuffs in the thick dust that had coated the wooden floors. Perhaps he could stay here for a day or two, just long enough to gather some supplies from the woods surrounding it. Or until someone came home. Which ever came first.

The house itself wasn't much to behold. Creaky wooden floors, a bed, a fireplace, and some worn in chairs and kitchen table. There was some food though, like jarred peaches and honey, some homemade preserves, some dried meats, and what appeared to be pickled okras. Everything else was either rotten or just too risky. He found a leather satchel hanging by the bed, dusted it off, and threw what he could into it. There was an old pack of matches in the pocket. Easy fires.

There was a small closet, and he searched it for things to keep him warm. He smiled when he spotted a long fur coat made of patched together rabbit hides. It was so large it could even double as a bedroll. The multicolored furs were faced to the inside, as it should be. It wasn't just some fashion statement like he'd seen in Ba Sing Se, but an actual survival tool. He patted the cob webs out of it and rolled it up.

There were a few portraits lined above the fire place. He studied them for a moment, having to dust them away to see the faces. There was a man with a wife, pregnant from the look of things. Something was written over the woman's. "Martha", it read simply. Martha was a pretty woman, he concluded. Warm smile and dimples. She almost reminded him of his mother in a way. He wondered what happened to the family. Perhaps they'd been taken by the war and never able to return to their bees.

He heard a rustling outside, and for a moment he thought it was the ostrich horse that may have followed him in through the gate. He peered out the curtained window, but he didn't see anyone. Not even the ostrich horse. He furrowed his brows together and stepped outside to the porch to investigate. Something large ran into the woods out of the corner of his eye, a flash of orange and white. It must have been a deer coming to nibble at the crops, he concluded.

He rounded the house to see if there might be anything of use. Perhaps the barn would have a saddle, or the over grown garden would have some fresh vegetables popping up through the weeds. He popped a couple squash from the vines, but there wasn't much else. Damn deer had probably gotten most of it.

When he opened the door to the barn, the stench of death hit him like a slap in the face. He coughed it away and held his shirt over his nose, peeling the barn door open enough to where the dimmed light of the sun could illuminate the inside. His heart fell at the sight he saw.

There was a man in full Fire Nation army attire sat in a chair in the middle the dirt floor. He was covered in flies and had probably been there for a while. There was no signs of scuffle or a fight, only some liquor bottles kicked over nearby. Just a dead soldier alone in a barn.

"Good riddance," he murmured. He couldn't say he wasn't curious as to what the story was with this one though. Why was he here? Was he really Fire Nation? Was a Fire Nation soldier… really living on a honey bee farm at the top of the mountain? No, it couldn't be. The family here, Martha perhaps, must have found him and showed him the what for and fled before she got caught. That would make sense.

He looked around and threw the saddle hung up near the door out into the grass. On the way out, he spotted a paper nailed to the inside of the door. He ripped it down and swung the door shut, sealing away the stench on the inside.

He slumped down on the step of the back porch, a sort of uneasiness filling his gut. He held the paper in shaky hands. He was almost afraid to read it, even though he wasn't sure why. The words we rough and almost illegible, like a drunk man had written them.

_I love you Martha and I'm sorry I tried to make a new life for us but you can't come here with me I guess the baby will be better off at home anyway but the memories Martha What things I've done I didn't want to do them I might as well die a soldier I'm so so sorry to those people and to you Martha_

_Martha Tell tell the baby I love them too if you ever see this I'm so sorry Martha I love you more than anything_

"Spirits," Jet murmured.

He sat on the back porch for a good while. He stared across the yard at the closed doors to the barn, picking blade after blade of grass to nervously chew on. What a fucking situation he'd found himself in. That fucking bastard in there was Fire Nation. He was the enemy. He'd probably burned down village after village before he wound up here. He shouldn't feel any sympathy for him.

But yet - he did. That man in the barn had a wife named Martha. He was going to be a dad. He felt alone. He felt guilty. He had bad memories. And - he was _sorry._ A Fire Nation soldier was _sorry_ for what'd he done. Jet didn't want to believe it. It seemed too human to be one of those soulless, fire breathing bastards. But why would a man who knew he was about to die write that knowing no one would see it, if it weren't true?

He wanted to leave this awful place behind. There was no way he was staying here now. But he felt a strange obligation to at least do something. He opened the door to the barn and avoided looking at the man as he gathered the hay up around him. He lit a match and set the barn ablaze. At least that way this nameless soldier would have some sort of burial. And if Martha ever came back, she wouldn't have to see what he had seen. Seen what this nameless soldier, her husband, had done to himself. He laid the note on the kitchen table along with their family portrait and grabbed his satchel and his coat.

He walked towards the white gate, the bellowing smoke behind him sending the scent of burning hay and flesh into the air. He was about to lift the saddle to the back of the ostrich horse, when out the corner of his eye he saw the animal he'd seen before at the end of the fence. He turned and studied it, and it seemed to be studying him too. A strange creature. The body and antlers of an elk, but the face and paws of a cat; Orange on top and white underneath like a whitetail. There was something around its neck, perhaps reins. That must have been what the saddle was for. Must be a Fire Nation animal for he'd never seen anything like it. He laid the saddle across the fence.

"Hey," he said. "Hungry?" It must be. Its only food source was in the barn, and it'd been shut away. Probably why it was nibbling out the garden.

The cat-deer pawed at the ground for a moment. Jet kneeled and lifted a squash he'd picked from his bag and held it out. It sniffed the air but didn't advance. Perhaps it wasn't interested in vegetables. It was part cat after all. He dug a piece of jerky out and tossed it onto the ground a few feet away from himself. The cat-deer advanced slowly, sniffing the ground and nibbling the dried meat.

"You like that, huh?" Jet said. "Want some more?"

He held another piece out in his fingertips, staying as ghostly still as possible so he wouldn't scare it off. It sniffed his fingertips, gingerly taking the meat from his hand and chewing it. It bumped its head against his hand, and Jet scratched its face. It was probably used to people if it had reins and saddle. He stood slowly and the cat-deer didn't scurry away, much to his excitement. He lifted the saddle and gingerly placed it on its back, and its fur wiggled at the sensation as he clipped the fastens into place.

"Good cat-deer thing" he praised. He saw something shimmering on its rein, a small brass tag with an inscription. It read "Rosebud" and nothing else.

"So, Rosebud, huh? That's your name?"

Rosebud responded by brushing her head against his torso.

"Wanna' come with me? You like to walk? We can sell this stupid ostrich horse and it'll just be you and me," he said.

Rosebud tapped her feet in what he assumed was a happy gesture. But just to test it, he said "Walk?" again. It tapped its feet again.

"Alright. That's one thing you know," he said. He secured his commandeered items onto the space on her back and slid himself onto the saddle. This thing was much easier to get on than the ostrich horse. Probably faster too. He held the reins to the ostrich horse behind him, and the two steeds walked one behind the other back down the trail and into the forest, leaving the nameless soldier and his honey bees behind.

He camped a few hours away back at the stream, relishing in the warmth of his furs and his new companion. He ate a whole jar of peaches and fell fast asleep, Rosebud tucked up against him like a dog.

In the morning, his journey continued down the current. Luckily for him, a couple hours in he spotted a large road passed over the water; One that actually had signs this time. There was a town a mile and half up the way. Perhaps there he could sell this ostrich. Then, he could get a map and begin to figure out his plan to find his gang and Katara. And maybe then, well, maybe he could show the Avatar a thing or two too.

* * *

Much to his dismay, the town was a Fire Nation Colony. Because _of course_ it was. These bastards were everywhere, it seemed. He sucked up his pride and found a farm to buy the ostrich horse, bought a map, and got the hell out of there. He wasn't speaking to anyone he didn't have to.

Rosebud was a curious creature. He'd never really had a pet before, given fifty hungry kids were always enough to feed, but he was very much enjoying her company. And enjoying not having to walk everywhere, but that was beside the point. She was intelligent, more so than the ostrich horse. More personality too. Who would think a giant cat-deer liked to cuddle? Or play fetch?

Once far enough away from the Colony to feel a bit livelier, he decided he was going to have a bit of fun for once. He'd been so focused on getting places the last few weeks, he'd somewhat forgotten that fun existed.

He sat atop the saddle and surveyed for a moment, trying to spot anything that could potentially get in his way on the dirt road he was traveling down. He smiled a cocky grin to himself.

"Alright, Rose, let's see what you can do," he murmured. "Yah!" he called.

Rosebud tapped her feet but otherwise didn't move. He sighed. How the hell did they teach these things to run? "Yah," is what they said in books right? He thought for a moment, toying with the reins to perhaps figure it the hell out. Rosebud gave a frustrated huff at the varying commands.

"Yip yip," he tried, because why not?

Nope. Nada.

He furrowed his brows. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with commands or reins at all? He tapped his feet against her sides, and she startled to a canter. He dug his feet into the stirrups, because the rough bouncing surely wasn't comfortable against his groin. But hey! He was getting the hell somewhere!

He smiled as they rode, tapping once more to see if it'd work again. It did, and he had to snatch the horn of the saddle to keep from flying backwards. Suddenly the trees were going by in blurs. He leaned forward and tried to keep his eyes to the front as the adrenaline began to pump, Rosebud's paws kicking up dirt behind them as she carried him faster than he'd ever moved before. Her feet padded the ground in near silence despite her speed, and boy, was she fast as _fuck._

"Yeahh!" he called into the forest, the only one to hear his joy being the quail he sent flying from the bushes.

This was the single most exciting moment of his life, he concluded. Well, the fun kind of exciting, that is. They tore down the path at lightning speed.

The path veered ahead, but he'd be damned if he stopped to pull out the map _now._ He let Rosebud lead the course, taking a sharp right turn and nearly sending him off the side. He straightened himself and laughed from the core of his belly. _This_ he could get used to.

Well, until he realized the trail suddenly ended with a stone wall.

"Woah, woah, woah!" he called, but Rosebud wasn't having it. She quickened her pace even more. He tried to grab the reins, but they slipped from his hands. He held the horn of the saddle tight as they catapulted over the rock barrier and into the trees; The branches seeming to go by in slow motion as they flew through the air. Her front feet landed with a soft thump, and her strong back legs sent them going again.

"Shit, shit, shit," he murmured to himself as Rosebud sent them ripping through the underbrush, tearing through trees with sharp turns at the speed of light. A particularly low branch almost took him out, but he ducked just in time. He kept low, making sure the top of his head never came over hers as she bounded their way into a clearing. With nothing around to decapitate him, he reached down to find the reins and snatched them hard.

Rosebud came to a sputtering halt as he pulled her head back, her feet kicking and back bucking in frustration at having been stopped.

"WOAH," he called, his heart hammering in his chest as his steed swung him in circles. He held his ground and held tight to the saddle, and she calmed after an agonizing minute or two of trying to buck him off. She let out a frustrated huff and pawed the ground, and Jet finally smiled an adrenaline-fueled grin.

"That was just a warm up for you, huh?" he said breathily and humorously. She shook her head and the reins jingled. Cheeky, fiery bastard; this deer. "Where the hell were you even going?"

He looked around and scowled. Great. Stuck in the middle of the woods, once again.

His ears perked at a sound in the distance; A familiar grind of shifting earth. Benders must be sparring. Hard, from the sound of it. They might be putting on a good show.

"Maybe that's where you were taking me," he said, very aware that he was speaking to a deer. Fuck it, he thought, as he headed in their direction.

It took about fifteen minutes to find where the actual sound was coming from, but by the time he arrived, things had already settled down. The woods led to yet another path through the forest, and he found himself staring down it.

There was a wagon toppled over, a large obelisk of stone shot through one of the wheels. Whatever was pulling it was gone, and there was a fire in the woods nearby. He tapped Rosebud's sides and trotted up to investigate.

There was familiar, deliberate burn marks on the barks of the trees. _Fire benders._

His breath caught in his throat as he rounded the wagon. There lay a woman in earth kingdom green, dead, leaned against it.

"Fucking animals," he hissed. He slid down from the saddle and surveyed. Most not have been a hard battle to win. Buncha' fire benders ganging up on one woman. Disgusting.

He shook his head. Spirits, how he kept happening upon dead people, he wasn't sure. But he couldn't just leave her. It wouldn't be right. He went to check her pulse, and her hand lifted just a bit. She was alive, just barely.

"Hey," he said, gently shaking her shoulders. "I'm here to help." Her eyes rolled back as she titled her head to lean against the wood, blood trickling from her mouth. His heart stopped.

Her eyes were gold.

"My baby," she managed before her eyes fell back into her head and she ceased to move.

He scurried backwards and swallowed the lump in his throat. His legs went numb underneath him as he looked around, and he had to sit on the dirt path to gather his thoughts.

He stared at the obelisk of stone through the wagon wheel. It made sense now. The woman wasn't an earth bender. She was attacked _by_ earth benders. _She_ was Fire Nation.

Rosebud padded up to him and nudged him, but it wasn't enough to break him from his revelation. He ran his fingers through his hair, his epiphany seeming to slap in the face.

"My baby," he repeated, as if mulling the words over. The sound of a soft wailing brought him back into reality. "Shit!"

He jumped up and clambered up the toppled wagon, throwing the door open and slinking inside. The baby wasn't hard to find, wailing and pushing its arms against the cloth. He picked up the small bundle that had been secured, probably by the mother, in a cushion of wrapped linen. He instinctively put it against his shoulder and hushed it, gently tapping its back. It was uninjured, despite everything.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Was all he could think. What the fuck was he gonna' do with a _fire nation_ baby?

He calmed the frightened baby and rocked it in his arms, soothing it back into the sleep it had probably been in before being toppled over. Once securing the baby against his chest by wrapping the white linen around himself, he searched the wagon for anything that could potentially identify it. Or, at least, give him some information as to where he could take it. Perhaps the father was in a colony nearby; which he really didn't want to experience again, but he wasn't a monster that was going to leave a baby to die in the woods. Not like the nameless fire, no _earth_ benders that had attacked the wagon. At least, that isn't who he wanted to be _anymore._

Things were strewn throughout it, which wasn't surprising given that it was on its side. He wondered how the baby had been spared given it all. He stepped on the door, the glass crunching under his feet, as he searched the various chests that lined the front.

"Damn, what was she doing? Moving the whole house?" he asked himself as he shuffled through item after useless item. Finally, he picked up what appeared to be a journal and opened it.

There was a letter folded up on the inside. The first words were "Dear Martha."

"Fuck!" he called as he threw the journal to the floor. "Spirits, what the fuck?" he asked, his heart beginning to throb in his chest as he threw his hands out in disbelief.

Why? Just why? Not only was it a _Fire Nation_ baby, but a now _orphaned_ Fire Nation baby.

The baby stirred at his outburst and cracked a cry, and he told himself to calm down once more. He'd figure this out. He always figured something out. He gently shook his head and the baby, calming it back into slumber. He picked up the pocket-sized journal and smoothed it back into place before slipping it into his pants. He took a roll of the clean white linen and tossed it outside. He climbed carefully out the wagon, making sure his hand was over the baby's head so it wouldn't get bumped.

He slid down the side of the wagon, and there was the same familiar sound in the distance. It was time to leave. The assailants could be coming back. He called Rosebud, who was nibbling something out of a bush nearby. She trotted up and sniffed the new addition, tapping her feet happily on the ground.

"Yeah, at least someone's happy about it," Jet grumbled as his slid himself onto the saddle, the roll of linen strapped behind him and the sleeping infant tucked tight against his chest.

* * *

Jet slid the map back into the document tube that held it, mentally adding to himself which turns he'd have to take for the next hour or so. There was a Fire Nation colony nearby. He could drop the baby off with someone there.

It had been an hour or so since he found it, and the sun was beginning to get low. Which meant the cold was beginning to settle over the land. Which meant he should probably make camp, but he wasn't yet willing to do that. He wanted this baby _out_ of his hands. What did he look like? Taking care of a Fire Nation kid?

As if on cue, the baby cracked a cry against his chest. He sighed and looked down. The baby's eyes were just peeling open from its nap to meet his gaze. It blinked for a moment, as if registering that this was, in fact, not its mother.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

He wasn't sure if was a boy or a girl. They were still a bit undefined at that age. He didn't care to know. Better to leave it as an "it". All he knew was that it had the signature Fire Nation look. Golden eyes and black hair. It was probably around six months, he guessed from the few babies he'd ever encountered back at the old hideout. The baby furrowed its brows, and he could feel it straining against him.

"No, no, no!" he told it, as if that would stop a baby from pooping. It farted loudly and giggled. He sighed. Spirits, what had he gotten himself into?

He pulled Rosebud off to the side and slid down, untying the knot that secured the baby against him and holding it out.

"Damn, you stink," he told it, and it began to cry. He sighed again. He was never gonna' make it anywhere like this.

He unwrapped the linens, and the smell hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Damn, kid," he said, wafting the smell away. He stifled gags as he cleaned it. Well, not so much of an "it" anymore. A her, he found out. He rewrapped _her_ with the spool of clean linen, a bit haphazardly but he tried his best. It wasn't near perfect, but she didn't seem to mind it. Her crying had stopped, at least.

He wrapped the linen around himself and created a pouch this time, that way he could just scoop her in and out. He slipped her into it and looked around. It was getting dark. Perhaps one night wouldn't hurt. She looked at him, burbling bubbles from her mouth and cooing every now and then. He looked down and smiled despite himself. She _was_ kind of a cute kid. And she was probably getting hungry, he concluded.

He built a fire, one hand scooped against his chest the entire time. He sat near it on the cool earth and pulled out a jar of peaches. He looked at it for a few minutes before popping open the top. Could babies even eat peaches? Surely, they could. Right? It would have to do for the night.

He mushed up a few slices and popped a bit into her mouth. Her lips puckered and then smiled. He smiled again despite himself. So, she liked peaches. Good to know.

He unrolled the fur coat and laid on top of it, digging out the journal from his pocket, the baby still strapped against him. She didn't seem to mind, quickly falling back asleep on her full stomach. He skimmed through the pages, the only light coming from the fire as he tried to find something about the kid in there. She had to have a name, right? Not that he cared, or anything. Simply information he'd give to whoever was going to take her off his hands.

A few pages in and he'd found it. Tikka. Her name was Tikka. She looked a Tikka, he thought. He shut the journal shut, feeling like reading anymore would be invasive.

Rosebud scooted against him, and he shoved his hand against her back to usher her away. She looked at him like he'd shot her. What? No cuddling?

"No!" he said. Surely, he couldn't have a giant deer pressed up against him whilst a baby was on his chest. She huffed and sat elsewhere, giving him a particularly sad look over her shoulder. Oh, so what? She'd be fine.

He fell asleep before he knew it, the fur draped carefully over the bundle on his chest.

* * *

He awoke to crying. After years of being in the forest surrounded by kids, it wasn't new to him. But it still took him by surprise. He jolted awake.

"Spirits," he said as he remembered the situation he was in; The Tikka that was thrashing and wailing against him. He sighed and his head fell back against the fur. Man, this was gonna' be a long day already. He could feel it.

He sat up and did what he had to do. Change linens. Share peaches with Tikka. Get on Rosebud and start the damn day already.

They trotted for about two hours without any… incidents. And there it was. The Fire Nation colony on the horizon.

"Alright, kid. Time to find you a new mommy," he said. And yes, he did realize how fucked up it sounded out loud. He grimaced at his own words, and Tikka smiled, unable to understand the situation she was in. He sighed. Poor kid.

Once in the town, in which he constantly had an eye over his shoulder, he found a vendor. Fire Nation merchants were very different than Earth Kingdom salesmen. Much more rigid and uniform. Never faltering their prices because they all had the same stuff. He looked over the items at this particular stand. Spirits, how did Fire Nation people eat such crap? It all seemed so… processed and uncultured. Surely, they had signature foods, right? Where was the spice? Not that he cared or anything.

Then, the realization hit him. This wasn't Fire Nation food. These were Fire Nation _rations._ Probably shipped in from a boat from someplace foreign to him. That's why they were all the same. That's why it was all so bland and processed. They didn't have meals. What they had was just sustenance and nothing more.

"Hey, have anything for the kid?" he asked simply, and a little bitterly if he was honest.

The shopkeeper sputtered to a start and looked over the counter, nodding but otherwise staying quiet. He reached under a shelf and pulled out a brown bottle with large lettering that read, "Ministry of Food. National Dried Milk." Jet scoffed but asked how much. A copper piece for the whole bottle. Not worth that much but it would have to do. It's not like he could let the kid starve.

"Got anything to put it in?" he asked. The man reached around and grabbed one the lined-up copper tins. It had an opening at the top, a baby sized spout on one side, and a little handle on the other. It seemed so cold and harsh and foreign to Jet, but he was between a rock and a hard place here. "How do you use it?" he asked, referring to the dried milk. He didn't even know you _could_ dry milk.

"Read the directions," the man grumbled, and Jet furrowed his brows. He threw the money on the counter.

"Thanks for nothing, asshole," he spouted and turned, grabbing Rosebud's reins and leading her away.

"You can't take that thing into the town!" the man called.

"Fuck off," Jet replied over his shoulder, and Tikka giggled a little at his outburst. He smiled at the sound. Spunky kid.

Down the way, he spotted a woman sweeping. He didn't want to ask for directions, but what else was he to do.

"Uh, excuse me," he said, pondering how to approach this question. _Hey, I found this kid in the woods. Where the hell can I drop it off?_

The woman looked startled at the sight of a large man pulling an even larger deer. She looked down to his chest and spotted the baby. Sure didn't look like his baby.

"Is there, like, I don't know, and orphanage around here or something?" he asked, but it sure as hell felt like the question he was thinking.

The woman pondered a bit. "No, I don't think so. Usually they get shipped back to the homeland," she said conversationally. Like what she just said wasn't fucking awful.

"Thanks," Jet replied, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his tone. Oh, yeah, just uproot the kids that lost their parents and ship them somewhere else. Real nice culture they got here.

He mounted Rosebud in the middle of the street, which garnered a few surprised gasps from the citizens around him. He didn't care. He was getting the hell out of here. Him and Tikka trotted pridefully out of the village. Everything about this place was despicable. And as much as he didn't want to admit, well, he didn't really want her to go to an orphanage anyway. He remembered what they were like before his days in the gang. Earth Kingdom ones were bad enough. He couldn't imagine what the Fire Nation ones were like. Especially with the callous attitude showed towards them.

Once far enough away to sooth his seething, he made camp early that day; A little spot looking over a field with the wall of forest behind him being the perfect pick. He unfolded the fur to allow Tikka to stretch, kneeling a few feet away. He surveyed the horizon for threats with his ear perked for sounds behind him.

Tikka rolled over and surveyed too, making burbling sounds as she did. He looked back and smiled.

Perhaps a Freedom Fighter she'd make one day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A man with outward courage dares to die; a man with inner courage dares to live."  
> ― Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

" _From what I heard; people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall."_

" _It is a magnificent site."_

" _So you've been there before?"_

" _Once. When I was a ... different man."_

" _I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance."_

" _That's very noble of you. I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances."_

Jet woke up just like he always did after that dream: with a gasp and a shake of his head. Why that fire nation prick was stuck in his nightmares, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was sick of it.

Tikka was fast asleep this morning. He sat up gently as to not wake the bundle next to him. He unrolled the map in the grass a few feet away and studied it for a bit longer than he had to. He just wanted to get his head away from that dream.

They'd completely traveled through Siaw Jong, over the river into the Rong Yanhai region, and currently were halfway through Shamu, which meant Gaipan was only a half day away. A little longer with Tikka. Well, this map was calling it New Gaipan. He mouthed the words, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach. So, the town he'd flooded had rebuilt. New Gaipan they were calling it. He supposed he should be happy, but all he felt was guilt.

But he had to check the old hideout before he went anywhere else. Longshot and Smellerbee may have returned. If they weren't there, well, time to look for the Avatar again. It was his only lead, and besides the avatar, his only hope. New Gaipan it was.

The daylight was beginning to dim when the land started to become hauntingly familiar. They trotted up through the wheat field that surrounded the forest that was once his home. He ran his fingers through it, popping a piece to stick into the corner of his mouth. He stopped at the barrier of trees, running his eyes down the endless wall that had once marked the edge of The Freedom Fighter's territory. It was bittersweet to say the least. It'd been months since he'd been here. He'd never thought he'd ever see it again. He thought he'd die before he ever had the chance. There was a sign planted now on the side of the trail, one that hadn't been put there by his gang. It inaccurately read "Jet's Forest. Use Caution." He supposed he'd become a bit infamous in the region. Too bad they waited until he was gone to put up a warning. He wanted to rip it from the ground and burn it.

He followed the game trails he knew like the back of his hand, figuring the main road might be a bit dangerous to take. It was faster that way anyway. It wasn't long before they came to redwood with the missing bark. He looked up from his spot in the saddle and swallowed the lump in his throat. The treehouses were still there, though a little more beat up than they were back then. With no one to maintain them, they were falling to pieces. It made his heart shatter.

He whistled into the forest, causing Tikka to jump a little at the sudden sound. There was no answer to his call. He tried again but to no avail.

"Bee! Longshot!" he tried at the top of his lungs, because he didn't know what else to do. Silence was his only reply. Mocking, damning silence. He felt a new lump form in his throat and tears prickle in his eyes. He balled his hand into a fist and tried to hold it back.

"Dammit," he murmured through gritted teeth. He'd never felt more lost. He was completely and utterly alone. And he'd done it to himself.

Well, mostly alone.

Tikka wiggled her arm from the makeshift carrier on his chest. She reached up and patted her little hand against his cheek. He looked down and finally let a tear run down it. Tikka was too innocent. Too young to know the things he'd done… to her people. _Her people_. He pondered on that for a moment as she patted his cheek over and over, probably more so for her own enjoyment than as a caring gesture. But he let her, feeling the warmth of her hand flow through him. He reached up and let her wrap her hand around his finger, and she giggled a little and pulled it as hard as she could.

He let himself smile as the tear began to dry on his cheek. She was just a kid, a _completely_ defenseless one at that. Regardless of where she came from. She hadn't a mother or a father. She hadn't a home. This war had hurt her like it'd hurt him. And perhaps that's why he was drawn to her. He saw himself in her. He saw his gang members in her. He saw every one of the kids he'd previously failed in her eyes.

 _This_ was his second chance, not Ba Sing Se. This was his chance to do what he'd always wanted to do. The right way this time. Tikka was the tiniest Freedom Fighter of them all, and Fire Nation or not, she _was_ one of his kids. The _only_ one left. He couldn't squander the opportunity. Not again.

They made camp near where the dam used to be, and Jet sat for a good while peering over the cliff side. The lights from the newly built town were brighter than ever before. All the people he'd made homeless weren't anymore. The damage he'd caused had been undone. He cried unapologetically to himself as Tikka slept without a care in the world.

Gaipan had rebuilt. So could he.

* * *

Autumn fell into winter seemingly overnight. The days went by quickly when kept on schedule. Jet wasn't used to being a 'schedule' type of person, but it was necessary when traveling with an infant. The snow was beginning to flitter down from the sky. Perhaps it was time to finally sleep inside.

He spoke to some townspeople at an inn. There was word of an invasion of the Fire Nation, a failed one at that. He wondered if Smellerbee and Longshot had been a part of it, given it was the Avatar that had led it. He wondered if they were okay, if they were with the avatar at all. He told himself they definitely were. It made it easier to imagine them with the most powerful person on Earth. Less worrisome than imagining them out in the world, even though he was sure they could take care of themselves. But he missed them. A lot. He hoped he'd get the chance to tell them how sorry he was.

In the morning, once the weather had settled, he wrapped Tikka in an extra layer and hit the road once more. Rosebud left paw marks in the blanket of snow as they made their way towards the shore. There was a port not too far from where they were, and word around town was that a fleet of water tribe ships were stationed there. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd do it, but he knew what he had to do to reunite with his gang. He knew what he had to do to play his part in the war. The right way. The Avatar's way.

He was going to set sail for the Fire Nation.

* * *

The boat rocked underneath him. By the spirits, he'd done it. It was a little easier than he'd expected. He just… kinda' asked to go with them. It was cold as fuck over the ocean though. A water tribe man spotted the makeshift coat he had wrapped around Tikka and furrowed his brows.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Jet asked.

"That. That isn't gonna' do anything. The Fire Nation is colder than you'd think," he said.

Jet tapped his hand on the wooden boards underneath him. Man, what a guilt trip.

"Got anything better?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually," the man said simply. He left without another word, leaving Jet a bit confused. The Fire Nation was cold? He'd never been anywhere other than the Earth Kingdom. He didn't know what to expect… but it wasn't cold. He supposed it should have been obvious. Where they were going was north of where he'd been before. The Fire Nation wasn't some hellish, fire and brimstone nightmare like in his imagination. It was just land, after all.

The man returned and tossed a small bundle to him; a tiny fur coat and pants dyed water tribe blue.

"Why do you have kid's clothes?" he asked as the man sat next to him on the deck.

"We have a lot of furs and a lot of time on our hands," he said conversationally. "We sometimes hand them out the kids we come across. My names Tiguaak, by the way."

"Names Jet," he answered. "And thank you."

"No problem," Tiguaak said. "Why you going to the Fire Nation?"

"I'm looking for the avatar," Jet said.

The man chuckled a bit. "Yeah, aren't we all. He escaped, so he's out there somewhere. Is this your daughter?"

Jet looked down at Tikka, who was currently fumbling a sock octopus (water tribe was big on giving gifts, apparently), and smiled. "No, not really," Jet said honestly.

"Not really? She either is or she isn't," he said.

"Well, I'm taking care of her. But she's not mine," Jet said. "She's an orphan."

"That doesn't matter. You know, in the water tribe, it's pretty common for kids to be taken care of collectively. Sure, there's the parents. But we all play a part. It takes a village."

Jet smiled a sad smile. He didn't really have a village anymore.

"She won't remember," Tiguaak said.

"Remember what?" Jet asked curiously.

"Her parents. She'll only know you, if you stick around that is. So, there's no real reason to _not_ call her your daughter," he said reassuringly. "If you want to, that is."

"I don't know," Jet said. "Feels weird."

Tiguaak chuckled a little. "Being a parent _is_ weird. But do right by them, and trust me, there's no better love in the world."

Jet looked down at Tikka once more. Perhaps he was right.

Another sailor called from his spot on the telescope. They were approaching a Fire Nation island. It wasn't a war zone or anywhere particularly important, so Fire navy fleets weren't protecting it. They sailed smoothly to shore, and Jet had to force himself to step onto the black sand. It was beautiful against the white snow that was forming on it.

A few water tribe sailors stepped ashore too, but they were on a completely different mission than he. They didn't say what, but he knew they had to separate. Whatever they were doing, well, they may not be coming back from it. They parted ways, and Rosebud's feet sunk into the sand as they trotted into Fire Nation territory.

* * *

The blizzard was brutal, and the trio was hopelessly lost with no map of the Fire Nation wilderness. It wouldn't matter anyway. They couldn't see fifteen feet ahead of them. Even Rosebud's long legs were struggling to lift and pull out from the snow. It caked to the fur on her legs, and Jet feared that even if this was her original terrain, she may not be able to bear much longer.

But she marched on, Jet and Tikka on top of her wrapped in fur and every inch of clothing they had. He feared that even with the little water tribe coat, that Tikka was still cold. He himself was cold. His gloved hands felt numb against the reins. But they pressed forwards. The second they sat still; they'd certainly freeze to death.

Tikka coughed against his chest. She was running a fever on top of everything else. He'd been out trying to find medicine when the storm erupted out of nowhere. When she cried, no tears came down. She was dehydrated. She needed help. He needed help. But there was no help in sight.

Rosebud's legs buckled underneath them, causing them to slide forwards on the saddle as she fell to her knees. She laid exhausted in the snow, and Jet felt as if he should just lay with her.

"I'm sorry, Tikka," he whispered, and the words were lost amongst the ripping wind. A tear fell from his eyes. This was the end.

No. _Not like this._

A fire burned in his belly. _Not like this._

They were _not_ going to die. _NOT LIKE THIS._

He dug his boots into Rosebud's sides, and she made a defeated guttural noise from her throat, the air leaving her mouth creating a fog in front of her.

"Come on, Rose!" he desperately called, using the last of his vigor to whip the reins against her. She rose defiantly to her legs, and a couple steps in and they buckled underneath her once more. It was too much weight for her. He had to ease it.

He slid off the saddle, his feet sinking into the snow almost up to his knees. He snatched the reins and pulled the steed to her feet. He walked, one foot in front of the other, leading Rosebud behind him and carrying Tikka on his chest. If they were going to die, then spirits damn him, he was going down swinging.

His willpower alone carried him forwards for what felt like a lifetime in the bitter cold.

Then suddenly, a ray of hope. Something red in the distance. A stark contrast against the sea of white, he easily spotted it through the storm. He marched forwards, leaving a trench in the snow behind him. They were not going to die. Not today.

Upon getting closer, he could distinguish what it was; some type of balloon with a Fire Nation insignia. He wondered what it was doing all the way out here. It didn't matter. They could use the gondola for shelter.

He looked inside, and there was only an inch or so of snow settled at the bottom. It couldn't have been there long. Which means whoever brought it here was still nearby.

He surveyed and spotted where the mysterious person had gone; A cave no bigger than half a doorframe with somewhat fresh tracks leading to it. He trudged towards it. And if anyone tried to stop him once inside, he'd slice their throats. Or die trying. He ducked under the opening, Rosebud having to crawl to get inside behind him.

"Who's there?" a voice called from down the way. Someone had a fire going, and Jet couldn't see the owner of the voice behind it.

His gloved hands went instinctively to his swords at his hips, but perhaps that wasn't the best idea with Tikka on his chest. He released them but kept them within reach.

"Please," he pleaded as calmly as his dry, cracking voice would allow. He wasn't used to deescalating a fight, but he was going to try. "We just need shelter."

The mysterious person approached slowly, and Jet could tell he was in a fire bending stance even in the dim light.

"Please," he said again. "I have a kid. We need help."

The figure paused and lowered his stance, and Jet could feel the heartbeat against his chest. The figure tilted his head and looked to him, but it was hard for Jet to distinguish his features. His eyes were tired from squinting, and the cold had made them dry and foggy. There was a long silence. Or perhaps the adrenaline just made it seem long.

"Jet?" the voice asked in an astonished tone, and Jet's heartbeat sunk to his stomach.

He'd heard this voice before.

"Li," he breathed. Hopefully he hadn't held a grudge. "Li, please don't attack me. Please. I – I – I need help. Please, the kid, the kid needs help," he pleaded, and he'd never heard his voice sound so desperate. Fuck it. He was desperate. No room for pride when Tikka's life was in his hands.

Zuko's eyes fell to Jet's chest where Tikka had begun to cough under the furs. He inhaled a sharp breath and tried to steady his breathing. As much as he didn't trust Jet, it wouldn't be right to put the kid in harm's way.

"Okay," he said amiably. "I won't."

Jet felt his shoulders relax just ever so slightly, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping an eye on him. After all, he'd lied before.

"You can… sit by the fire. If you want," Zuko said plainly. He walked backwards towards it, keeping his eyes trained on Jet as he did. He stayed standing by the fire, even though his legs were begging him to sit after a long day of leading the air balloon.

Jet was much quicker to get to it than he. He hastily shook the snow off himself and untied the fur coats. He unlatched Tikka from his chest, making sure to look up and eye Li, no not Li, _Zuko_ every few seconds. He quickly failed in his task as Tikka began a coughing fit, the smoke surely irritating her already fragile lungs. His eyes fell to her and stayed on her with concern.

"Shit," he murmured to himself as he tried to calm her, rubbing his palm against her back in a bit of a panic. He told himself to keep calm too. He was no use to her if he panicked.

"She's sick," Zuko observed.

"Obviously," Jet said a low plain tone, not quite having the energy to spit the venom he normally would. He couldn't hide the worry in his voice even if he tried.

Zuko looked around and stayed quiet for a moment, and Jet couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.

"I – I have something that might help her," Zuko said suddenly, backing away and grabbing his bag.

Jet felt a ray of hope despite himself, but his distrust was still prevalent. "Why would I trust you to give anything to her?"

Zuko furrowed his brow but continued to dig from his bag. "Well, either trust me, or she stays sick. Your choice."

Jet's ground his teeth together, wishing he had a stalk of wheat right about now. He inhaled a deep breath and let it fall from his lungs. "Okay," he said simply. "What is it?"

"Tea," Zuko answered.

"Tea?" Jet questioned.

"Yes, tea," Zuko spat. "It might help the fever. Worst case scenario, it'll _just_ help the cough."

Jet watched as Zuko stepped around Rosebud and filled a pot with snow from outside, setting it on the fire once he returned. He didn't even have the energy to glare at him. Just watched and waited as patiently as he could. Tikka sat in his lap, sucking her thumb with reddened cheeks as she watched the fire. Poor kid didn't have the energy to even cry.

They sat in silence as the tea came to a near boil. Zuko lifted the pot and set it aside to cool. There was a tiny elephant in the room, but maybe now wasn't the time to mention it. _What is Jet doing in the Fire Nation? And why… why does he have a baby?_

Jet had questions too. _Why is Zuko in a cave? Shouldn't he be off doing, I don't know, prince stuff?_

"Here, it should be cool enough," Zuko said and slid the pot towards Jet from the opposite side of the fire.

Jet didn't look to him, just reached and grabbed the handle. He shimmied Tikka's cup from his pocket and poured the tea. He made sure it was, in fact, cool enough before handing it to her. She eagerly took it and drank the whole thing without protest. He poured another, and she drank it again. At least she wouldn't be as dehydrated now, but Jet hoped it could break the fever too. He knew kids faired pretty well with illness from his time at the hideout, but this time was different. He was more worried than he usually was. She snuggled against him and passed out after a long day in the storm. He wanted to pass out too, but he wasn't yet willing with the prince sat across from him.

Zuko was the first to speak after a long silence. "What are you doing out here?" he asked. This guy tried to kill him, but he did kind of have to give him props for surviving that storm. With a _baby_ , at that.

"You first," Jet answered.

Zuko arched his brow. So, he hadn't changed a bit. Still stubborn.

"I'm looking for the avatar," he answered.

Jet made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Of course, you are. Isn't that what you're always doing? Katara told me. I'm not stupid."

Zuko's eyes went a little wide in surprise. "You know Katara?" he asked.

"Of course, I know Katara," Jet answered, not quite willing to explain as to how. "She told me you followed them all over the world. Trying to capture the avatar. I know who you are," Jet said.

Zuko fell quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He didn't know why he felt to need to explain himself to the likes of Jet, but what else did he really have to do at the moment?

"I'm not trying to capture him anymore. I'm going to join him," he defended as he looked into the fire.

Jet smirked and made the same little noise he had before. "Yeah, I bet you are."

Zuko's face fell into a scowl. "How the hell are you going to tell me? You don't know anything about me!" he spat.

"Hey, man. Keep your fucking voice down," Jet spat, gesturing towards the sleeping infant.

Zuko inhaled and tried to calm himself. Jet was right. For once.

"You think I'd be in the middle of the woods in a cave for no reason?" Zuko asked, this time in a lower tone.

Jet didn't answer. Because well, he was right. Didn't seem like very Princely behavior. But still. It didn't mean much when he was known for traveling around.

"Why the hell do you have a baby anyway?" Zuko asked. "Trying to build up your little gang with infants who don't know any better?"

Jet grit his teeth. "I found her, asshole. Her parents are dead, because _your_ father decided to send colonists into the Earth Kingdom. And earth benders don't fuck around with colonizers. _I_ saved her."

Zuko fell quiet, mulling over that information. "So, she's Fire Nation?" he asked after a moment, a bit astonished. He thought Jet _despised_ anyone Fire Nation.

"Yes! She's Fire Nation! What of it?" he spat.

Zuko's patience was wearing thin, but he held his breath and steadied his breathing. He couldn't get riled up. They were all stuck together in this cave. Jet was lucky he had the kid because they probably would have thrown fisticuffs by now. "You never answered my question," he said as calmly as he could.

Jet paused for a minute. "Joining the avatar," he said, as if finally cementing the idea.

Zuko's shoulders fell. _Of course,_ he was. He couldn't get rid of him no matter how much he tried. He just kept showing back up. Like a splinter that wouldn't edge out. Mother fucker even came back from the dead to bother him.

"You are _not_ traveling with me," Zuko said sternly.

"Who said I was, pretty boy?" Jet said, knowing it would get a rile out of him. He was always fun to piss off. He supposed not much had changed.

"Don't call me that!" Zuko spat.

Jet smirked. He made it way too easy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. _Prince_ Pretty Boy," he corrected.

Zuko's face went hot. "You're impossible. You know that?"

"Oh, _I'm_ impossible. At least I'm not a liar!" Jet spat.

"You tried to _kill_ me!" Zuko spat back.

"No," Jet argued. "I tried to have you _arrested_."

"Oh, like that makes it any better. And is that how you remember it? Really?"

Jet smirked. "Yes."

Zuko laughed. "Yeah, but who ended up getting arrested? Huh?"

Jet's face fell into a scowl. "Fuck you, they brainwashed me!"

Zuko's face fell too, but not in anger. "They what?"

"You heard me."

Zuko picked a thread on his robe. "Is – Is that why you were under the lake?" he asked, a little softly.

Jet inhaled a breath and let if fall slowly from his lungs. "Yeah, it was," he said. He paused and picked at the fur. He vaguely remembered Zuko dragging him out. He supposed he _should_ thank him. "Why were _you_ under there?" he asked instead.

Zuko thought for a moment. Should he tell the real reason? He supposed not much was a secret anymore. "I was going to take the Avatar's bison, but I set it free instead."

"Appa?" Jet said. "You set Appa free?"

Jet pondered. Maybe… maybe Zuko wasn't so bad after all.

"Yeah, I did," Zuko answered.

"Then… then you saved me?" Jet asked.

Zuko looked away. "Yeah."

"Why? I tried to kill you," Jet asked.

Zuko thought for a moment. "My uncle thought it was the right thing to do," he answered. _He_ thought it was the right thing to do, but he wasn't going to let Jet know that.

"Well," Jet paused and swallowed his pride. "Thank you."

Zuko twiddled the thread but stayed silent.

"And thank you for," Jet continued as he gestured towards Tikka. "Helping."

"I didn't do that for you," Zuko said stubbornly.

"Still," Jet answered.

Zuko finally met his eyes, and there was something different about them this time. They were calmer. The last time he'd seen them was wide eyed and panicked as he was drug away into the Dai Li's cart. He didn't get to see them at all after he'd drug him out from under the lake. He thought surely, Jet was going to die. He didn't like to think about that too much.

But… he was happy that Jet had seemed to find at least a little peace. He seemed more settled. Equally as much of an asshole, but… less angry. Less reckless. He wondered what had caused the change, but all questions need not be answered at once.

"We should probably get some sleep," Zuko said, his legs weary beneath him. He had a long day of following the Avatar in the morning. And he supposed, Jet did too. But _not_ with him.

"Yeah," Jet agreed, even though he stayed pressed up against the opposite wall of the cave. He leaned against it, and as much as he wanted to wait until Zuko had fallen asleep for him to do the same, the exhaustion from his hellish day was telling him otherwise. His eyes fluttered shut unconsciously, and he fell fast asleep with Tikka curled in his arm.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”  
> ― Lao Tzu

Zuko wasn't used to anyone waking up before him, but sick infants don't sleep well to say the least. He awoke to the sound of a soft crying. He peeled his eyes open, and the morning light was shining in through the cave opening. He looked over to the kid, who was currently working up to throw a _massive_ fit. She reared her hand back and slapped a still sleeping Jet across the face. Hard. Harder than he thought a baby _could_ slap. Like seriously, she slapped the _dog shit_ out of him.

Zuko smirked as Jet jolted awake and held his face in shock. Jet blinked his eyes, genuinely hurt.

"What the hell man?" he asked, and the kid reared her hand again. "No!" he scolded. "I'm up! I'm up!"

Zuko stifled a chuckle in his throat. At least someone was willing to slap him.

"What are you laughing at?" Jet scolded.

Zuko shrugged his shoulders with a grin. Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.

He got up and brushed the dirt from his clothing. He eyed the entrance to the cave, and something was missing. He pondered as Jet handled the now screaming child.

"Hey, Jet," he said plainly in between screams.

"Little busy," Jet replied.

"I think your elk thing is gone," Zuko noted, ignoring him.

"No, it's not," Jet replied without looking. "Go look outside."

" _You_ go look outside. It's your elk," Zuko noted.

"I'm telling you. It hasn't gone anywhere. Prove me wrong," Jet said as Tikka kicked and screamed. "And you, miss thang, need to _chill out_."

Zuko sighed. Got him with the old 'prove me wrong' trick. He went and looked outside, and there it was.

"It's out here," he said, watching the creature stalk something in the snow.

"Told you," Jet replied smugly.

Zuko sighed again. It was like he was with _two_ children.

"I'm gonna' go get the balloon ready," Zuko said plainly.

Jet didn't reply. Zuko supposed he _was_ a little busy. Not that he cared about a reply anyway.

He went and dusted the snow that had formed on the balloon. This day was much nicer than the previous. Not a cloud in the sky.

Jet emerged a few minutes later with a much calmer child strapped to his chest. Man must be a fucking miracle worker.

"What is that thing anyway?" Jet asked.

"An air balloon," Zuko answered, like it was obvious.

"Aren't all balloons _air_ balloons," Jet replied.

Zuko furrowed his brow. Smartass. "It's a _hot_ air balloon."

"Ah," Jet said with a smirk. "Filled with hot air. Much like its owner."

"It's advanced Fire Nation technology," Zuko noted, ignoring his comment.

"It's stupid," Jet replied.

"Oh, and what do _you_ have? A stupid elk," Zuko retorted.

"Her name is Rosebud, first off. And she's not stupid, second off. And third off, she's a _cat_ deer. You should know that. They're from the 'homeland'," Jet retorted. "Oh, and look, look, look. She's catching breakfast right now. What can your balloon do?"

Zuko looked over the cat deer, who currently had a skunk-possum hanging from its mouth. "That's disgusting," he noted. "And a balloon can _fly_."

"Flying is for pussies," Jet noted. "Fire it up."

"You're _not_ coming with me," Zuko said.

"Duh," Jet replied. "I'm _following_ you."

"Not the first time you stalked me," Zuko grumbled.

"It was _one_ time," Jet defended. "And don't act like you didn't stalk the avatar all over the world."

Zuko thought for a moment. Okay, he had to give him that one.

"Just get your stupid cat deer and come on," he said as he dug from the gondola. "And here. In case you get lost." Zuko tossed him a document tube with a Fire Nation map on the inside. "I'm going to the edge of the island. I'm pretty sure the avatar is at the Western Air Temple."

"How do you know that?" Jet asked.

"Because he's an _air_ bender," Zuko noted. "And trust me. Nobody's better at finding the avatar than me."

Jet thought for a moment. Okay, that was fair enough.

"Well, thanks pretty boy. We'll meet you there," Jet said.

"Stop _calling_ me that!" Zuko spat.

Jet smirked. "Hear that, kid. I think I made him mad."

Tikka smiled, and Jet was happy to see it. She seemed to be feeling at least a little bit better. Granted she had the energy to slap the piss outta' him.

"You're so lucky you have that kid," Zuko grumbled. "That's the _only_ reason I'm helping you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jet replied. "Hurry up. You're moving like you got daylight hanging off of ya."

"That's not a saying!" Zuko spat.

"Yes, it is," Jet said confidently. "Read a book."

Zuko sighed. "Just meet me there."

* * *

It was a half day later when Jet saw the balloon descending from the sky. It was much easier to navigate when he could actually see. The trio followed in the direction that it had landed and came to the beach. He looked down it and spotted the balloon. He trotted towards it and slid off Rosebud.

"Now what?" he asked, surveying the endless ocean.

"Well, the temple is across the water on its own island," Zuko said.

"Okay, so let me fly with you," Jet said.

"I thought flying was for pussies," Zuko noted.

"Well, asshole, I can't really _swim_ across, now can I?" Jet said, gesturing towards a smiling Tikka.

Zuko sighed. Damn cute ass kid. Making him be nice.

"Just get on the balloon," he said, defeated.

Jet smirked and tugged Rosebud's reins. Zuko's face fell.

"No," he argued. "That thing won't fit!"

"Well, I can't _leave_ her. She's part of the family. Isn't that right, Rosebud?" Jet said and scratched her face. She tapped her feet happily.

"Just release her into the wild!" Zuko suggested. "She'll be fine!"

"It was nice knowing you Rose. Go on girl, be free. You deserve it," Jet said as he unenergetically shooed her away.

She didn't move.

"See? She doesn't wanna' go. She loves me."

" _Where_ is she gonna' fit?" Zuko asked.

Jet moseyed up to the balloon and gestured inside. "Right here. Look, there's two seats. One for me, one for you. And she can be in the space in the middle."

"That's not gonna' work," Zuko noted.

Jet made a clicking noise and shimmied his sword into his hand. He lifted it suspiciously close to the cloth of the balloon and waved it around. "Sure would be a shame if something happened to this balloon," he said casually.

"Stop!" Zuko exclaimed. "Just fucking put her on the balloon!"

Jet smirked. "Go sit first. Unless you wanna' climb over her."

Zuko reluctantly did. He scowled as Jet led the deer into the gondola. She backed up towards Zuko, and his face went hot.

"Absolutely not!" Zuko exclaimed. " _You're_ getting the ass end. It's _your_ deer."

"I can't take the ass end," Jet said from his seat opposite. He closed the door to the gondola with a smirk. "I have a baby. Can't have deer ass in the baby's face."

"Really? You're pulling the baby card?" Zuko spat. "It's _my_ balloon! _My_ rules!"

"Oh, so you're just gonna' live with yourself knowing you put a deer ass in a baby's face?" Jet asked.

"Well, give _me_ the baby!" Zuko exclaimed as Rosebud's back legs rubbed against him. He leaned away and grimaced. She swung her head around and looked at him unapologetically.

"You don't even know her name," Jet noted as he peered around Rosebud. "Why would I let you hold her? Especially _flying_ over the ocean."

"Well, what's her name?" Zuko asked.

"Tikka," Jet said.

"Well, let me hold Tikka and we can go," Zuko bargained.

"Hmm," Jet pretended to think for a moment. "No. Only _I_ hold the baby."

"What? You think I can't hold a baby?" Zuko asked.

"She doesn't like you," Jet said.

"Oh, really? She said that?"

"Yeah. She did. It's not my fault you can't speak baby."

"Ugh! You're impossible!" Zuko spat.

"Just fly the damn balloon!" Jet spat back.

Zuko shoved passed the deer and stood in front of the burner, having to squeeze himself in the tiny space that was left. He put his hand out to heat the air.

"What are you doing?" Jet asked, suddenly very serious.

"I have to heat the air," Zuko answered. "That's what makes it fly."

"With… with bending?" Jet asked, as if he figured there was an alternative.

Zuko's frustration with the situation was suddenly nonexistent. As much as he didn't want to show it, Jet was afraid. At one point, Zuko would have relished in that fact. But now it just felt shameful. Because Jet had been fearless when facing him before. So, Zuko knew he wasn't fearful for himself. He was afraid he'd hurt the _kid_ , and that… that felt pretty damn awful.

"It only takes a little to get it going," Zuko assured, unsure of what else to say. He wanted to tell Jet that he wasn't his father. That he wasn't some heartless monster that would hurt a kid, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. That was something he had to show. It wasn't something he could simply tell.

Jet said not a word but gave him an uncertain nod. He tightened his arm around Tikka and looked off to somewhere in the distance. He flinched out of the corner of Zuko's eye as the flames left his palm. He made sure to heat the air quickly and attentively, and the balloon heaved itself from the earth. He sat back down without a word, and the rest of the journey was made without bicker.

* * *

It was dusk when the gondola touched ground on air nomad land.

The two made camp separately, and Jet had been unusually compliant when they were departing the balloon. He hadn't said much the whole ride, as if the reminder that Zuko was a bender had sent him into a state of shock. A reopening of old wounds.

Zuko gave him space. He knew he shouldn't care, but for some reason he did. A lot. It bothered him well into the night.

He didn't want anyone to fear him. He didn't want for Jet to have to clutch, ah what was her name, Tikka, to his chest every time he was around. He didn't want for him to flinch when he raised his hands, but he was very aware that Jet had every right to do those things.

Jet was a living wound his father had left in the world; One that'd been left open to fester and rot. Zuko always assumed saving the world would be in grand, sweeping gestures. But perhaps he should start smaller. Clean one wound at a time. He may not be able to prevent the scar after, but at least he could sew it shut.

Not to mention his anxiety about joining the avatar to top it all off, but that was a matter for the morrow. Tonight, he'd make peace. One wound at a time.

He made his way towards Jet's camp, but his feet would have preferred him stay put. He had to drag himself along, a strange anxiety bubbling in his chest. He wasn't afraid of Jet. Not at all really. He knew he could defeat him if he had to, but this anxiety was something else he couldn't quite place.

His feet padded in silence as he made it to the edge of the camp. Jet must have been already in his tent from the look of things. The fire burned by its lonesome. A cold breeze sent the smoke off into the cloudless night sky.

He'd made it here, but he didn't know what to do now. His uncle always told him he never thought things through, and he supposed not much had changed. He stood there at the edge of the camp unsure of what to do with himself. Should he call out? No, that might be weird. Should he knock on the wooden stakes that held the tent up? No, surely that would send Jet into a panic. He shifted on his feet and went to go back to his own camp.

A soft humming permeated the silent air. He looked over his shoulder at the camp. Was… was Jet singing? He stopped and listened. He was. Must be singing to the kid, fore she was giggling along to it. He couldn't distinguish the words to the song, but the whole thing was… awfully cute. Even if he couldn't see it.

He shook the thought from his head. Jet was _not_ cute. Jet was an asshole. Jet carried hook swords and had tried to slice his head off with them. Jet was a thief and a ruffian. A street rat with no manners. A cocky prick with a head comprised of nothing but smartass comments.

But he was good to the kid. Zuko had to admit that. Much better than his own father to say the least. And he supposed that was respectable in its own right.

Unable to think of the right thing to say and unwilling to interrupt such a moment, he went back to his own camp.

* * *

Jet went to find Zuko in the morning after packing up. No map existed of the air nomad island, so he supposed he could use some more help. As much as he didn't want to admit it.

He supposed he should apologize too. He'd been distant with Zuko and he hadn't done anything wrong. He had helped Tikka, and Jet had treated him like he'd set her on fire. He just… couldn't help it. All he'd ever known fire bending for was destruction and pain and heartache and hell and… and then it was right in his face and he couldn't do anything about it… He'd felt helpless. Which wasn't new to him. But it was much easier to withdraw into himself than it was to explain that. So, that's what he had done. Besides, there was no way he was letting _Zuko_ see him be vulnerable. He was the prince of the Fire Nation for spirits sake.

He sighed, pushing those thoughts away. Today was a new day. Today was the day he joined the avatar. It was going to be a good day.

He led Rosebud behind him this morning, figuring the short walk wasn't worth saddling up for. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Zuko's voice through the trees. Who the hell was he talking to? Jet's guard immediately went back up as he left Rosebud behind and slinked through the underbrush to investigate.

"Hello ... Zuko here, but I guess you probably already know me, sort of. Uhhh ... so, the thing is I have a lot of firebending experience, and I'm considered to be pretty good at it. Well, you've seen me, you know, when I was attacking you. Uhhh ... yeah, I guess I should apologize for that. But anyway…"

_Is this nerd talking to himself?_

Jet smirked as he came out from the bush. He _was_ talking to himself. He was practicing what he was going to say to the avatar. Jet knew he was a bit awkward, but not _this_ awkward. He sat on a rock nearby and curled his legs underneath him. There was no way he was missing this.

"I'm good now. I mean, I thought I was good before, but I realize I was bad, but anyway, I think it's time I joined your group and taught the Avatar firebending."

A badgerfrog croaked at him from its perch. Jet wanted to let a loud laugh spill from him but held it back. He was gonna' sit here until Zuko noticed him on his own. It wasn't like he was hidden. Like at all. Even Tikka was smiling at the show.

"Well, what's your answer?" Zuko spat.

The badgerfrog hopped on his head before jumping off into the woods, and Zuko's shoulders fell. Jet felt for him. Poor guy was talking to a frog and even the frog didn't want to talk to him.

"Yeah ... that's what I'd say, too. How am I supposed to convince these people that I'm on their side? What would Uncle do?"

Jet smirked and plucked a piece of grass to stick in his mouth. Oh, this was gonna' be good.

"'Zuko, you have to look within yourself to save yourself from your other self. Only then will your true self, reveal itself.' Even when I'm talking for him I can't figure out what he means. What would Azula do? 'Listen, Avatar, I can join your group, or I can do something unspeakably horrible to you and your friends. Your choice.' I guess I'm just not that good at impersonations." The frog jumped back in front of him and croaked.

"I thought your uncle one was pretty good," Jet said casually. "Don't know about the other one though."

Zuko jumped in his skin. "Jet!" he spat, unable to keep his cheeks from going hot. "How – how long have you been sitting there?" he sputtered.

Jet never thought he'd see the day, but Zuko was _blushing._ It looked rather cute accompanied with his scowl. He'd always kinda' had a thing for him, ever since the ferry. Time doesn't heal all things, he supposed. But he had to keep a rein on it. Things weren't the same as they were back then.

"Long enough to know that you're more of a dork than I thought," Jet answered casually. He uncurled his legs and stood, straightening the long fur coat draped around him. Tikka's head popped up from the opening and smiled at Zuko.

Zuko tried to will the blood out from his cheeks as Jet approached. "At least I'm not wearing a women's fur coat!" he spat defensively.

Jet smirked, much to his dismay. "You're just jealous you can't pull it off. But here let me show you something. Call it a life lesson."

Zuko's cheeks stayed flushed as Jet eyed his slumped shoulders. "Stand up," Jet said as he rounded his body. He planted one hand on Zuko's lower back and the other gripped the collar of his shirt. "Straight," he added as he yanked his body straight.

Zuko's heart fell as Jet's grass brushed the back of his neck. And why was he letting Jet touch him anyway? He should deck him in the mouth for this. Oh, yeah. He had the fucking kid, so Zuko was helpless in this situation. "Shoulders back," Jet added as he gripped his shoulders and pulled them back.

"And say shit with your chest," Jet suggested. "Much more convincing that way."

Zuko stayed silent, his embarrassment at the situation too much to bear.

"Well?" Jet said expectantly, hands still on his shoulders.

"We're not doing this," Zuko said as sternly as his voice would allow, turning around and facing Jet. His shoulders instinctively fell, but he manually pulled them back once more.

"Well, then come the hell on pretty boy. We got ground to cover," Jet said.

Zuko swallowed the lump in his throat as Jet turned away and went to fetch Rosebud. Man, what the hell was that?

He sheepishly gathered his things.

* * *

Jet surveyed from on top of Rosebud, very much confused.

"So… you said the temple was up here?" he asked, seeing nothing but flat fields of grass dotted with snow.

"Yeah," Zuko answered.

Jet furrowed his brows. It's like he was intentionally difficult.

"Well, where the hell at?" he asked.

"You can't see it yet," Zuko answered.

Jet sighed. "Well, is it _invisible_?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, it's not invisible! It's underneath the cliff!" Zuko spat.

"Well, you coulda' just said that," Jet retorted.

The two fell quiet once more. Jet looked down at Zuko. He smirked, suddenly coming up with a thought.

"You know, with me on my mighty steed and you walking, its like _I'm_ the prince and you're the squire," he noted.

Zuko sighed. Spirits, how did he end up with such a moron? "Squires don't hang out with princes. They hang out with knights. And they don't exist anyway."

"Well, I could be a knight," Jet said casually. "I've read a book or two. I know what's up."

Zuko laughed a bit. "Yeah, right."

"Why couldn't I be? I still got my armor on under here," he noted. "Why are you walking anyway? Why not take the balloon?"

"Flying up on the avatar might not be the best choice," Zuko answered.

Jet thought for a moment. Yeah, probably not.

They came up to the edge of the cliff, and Jet slid off Rosebud and peered over the side. "So, now what?"

"We have to grapple down," Zuko answered.

Jet furrowed his brows. "That's a whole lot of fuck that," he said, gesturing towards Tikka. "How about this? You go join the avatar, then gently request that he come pick us up on Appa."

"You make it sound _soo_ easy," Zuko said, unable to hide the uneasiness in his voice.

"Well, what other choice do we have?"

"You mean what other choice do _you_ have?" Zuko asked.

"Yeah, whatever. Ooh, and while you're down there, see if my gang is down there too," Jet added.

Zuko sighed. "Just wait up here." He swung the rope over the edge and slid down it without another word.

Jet looked over the side as he did, not peeling his eyes from the prince until he'd touched ground. A familiar groan sounded in the distance. He looked up, and Appa was flying overhead.

He waved his hands to flag them down, but to no avail. He sighed. Guess he _should_ just wait.

* * *

It was a few hours later, just as Jet was beginning to wonder what the hell was going on, when Zuko returned a sopping wet, defeated mess. Jet could fully assume that Katara was none too happy about seeing him. He remembered her wraith. He'd felt it more than once.

"I'm guessing it didn't go well," he said, no joking in his voice.

Zuko didn't respond, just lifted his soaking shirt over his head and wrung it out.

Jet felt for him. He looked thoroughly spanked.

"You – you didn't happen to see if the Smellerbee and Longshot were there, did you?" he asked softly.

Zuko looked to him sympathetically, and he didn't have to answer for Jet to know.

Jet felt a lump form in his throat. He was never going to find them. He'd fully lost his family.

He gathered Tikka without another word, not even caring that he couldn't descend the temple tonight. He'd figure something out tomorrow. He always figured something out.

The two made camp at the edge of the woods, not even caring enough to make space away from one another. There was no triumph for either of them this day.

But tomorrow, well, maybe something would be there for them tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful." -Lao Tzu

The morning came too early. But if the almost sleepless night had taught Jet anything, it was that he didn't mind Zuko only being a mere few tree lengths away. It was almost comforting, in a way. Almost.

Fore when a sound had come to both of their attentions, someone or something slinking about in the dark the night before, the two had both shot from their tents to investigate; Unhesitating to defend. Upon not discovering the source, the sound having retreated back into the darkness, they both went back to their beds without a word. An unspoken agreement had been made that moment; That either one of them would protect the other from creatures of the dark. Or, in the _very_ least, alert the other to the dangers of the night. Two sets of ears and two sets of swords was simply just more practical. And it was nothing more than that.

Little did they know, that this danger was much more earthly than some stalking, nightmarish creature. It was simply Toph. Which honestly, should scare them more - but no matter. She hadn't expected to feel _two_ bodies laid up in camp when she went to extend an olive branch of sorts to Zuko. And frankly, she wasn't touching that one with a ten-foot pole. She left before her curiosities began to wander, and definitely before they had a chance to be answered. She returned to the gang and said not a word. Her lips were sealed. She'd find out who it was eventually anyway. If it were important, she'd know by now. Oh, but what a surprise it was going to be. Nothing better than the anticipation knowing you have a present but can't open it. Not yet. It was at least something to look forward to in this boring temple.

Zuko learned that morning that Jet had quite the knack for climbing trees. He knew that because he was currently in one. And he was also tossing pecans at him and narrowly missing. Zuko wanted to turn to address it, but he didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He sipped his tea and pretended to be unbothered by such childish antics.

Until one landed in his cup.

He turned around, snarling, and Jet just laughed that infuriatingly velvety laugh; the one that was so sickeningly smooth _and_ didn't try to hide the fact that it was mocking.

"Stop," he tried to say as level headed as possible. He was still upset from getting doused by Katara, and all Jet could do was prod.

"Oh, come on. You know that was a good shot," Jet defended, almost with a childlike innocence.

Zuko sighed and plucked the invading object from his tea. If he let Jet get under his skin, he'd never stop.

Another pecan landed, this time on his head.

"I'm _serious_!" he spat with as much venom his voice could produce at such a unworthy situation.

Jet laughed, quick but still mocking. "I _know_ you're serious."

Zuko was sure his head would explode. He shot around, about to snarl at him more, until he saw something peculiar.

Tikka was on the ground, laid lazily in the shade atop her furs, and not on Jet's chest per usual. He didn't know why he'd expected that he'd climb a tree with her. He supposed it was more that he hadn't expected Jet to leave her closer to him than he had himself. Or maybe it _was_ that he was just such a ridiculous human being that he _would_ do something like climb a tree with an infant.

And how ridiculous he was. Zuko wasn't even sure such a person was real. His stupid little blade of grass hanging from his lips at every moment. His stupid, remedial remarks. But there was something strange about Jet, he noticed. The intent behind his words was always seemingly more than what his ear could distinguish. Or perhaps he was just an idiot, and Zuko was looking much too far into it. Giving him more credit than deserved. In reality, or at least on the surface, everything he did was some creative, not so feeble attempt at pissing him off. And it was much easier to see him as just that. A man with a no intent other than to be a childish pesterer. And what a pesterer he made.

He found himself arbitrarily looking to the pesterer, his body twisted around. Jet was only half paying the world any attention as he scooped pecans from their respective branches. He looked at home in the tree, Zuko thought. Like it was his natural setting and the ground was the foreign place.

And no matter how slender he may be, Jet seemed to take up a lot of space amongst the leaves. He could nimbly slip in and out of limbs, yet somehow the surety of his feet padding from one to the other was thunderous. His movements were loud even in their silence, even in their fluidity. There was a swashy way his shoulders rolled back after dipping under branches, then locked into place with what Zuko was starting _not_ to consider misplaced confidence. And it made him feel larger than life. Unreal almost.

He descended from the height of the limbs with such grace that Zuko was convinced that he, in fact, did _not_ have a death wish as he'd previously thought. That rather he was so self-assured his feet would touch bottom that he wasn't even worried about it. He hit the ground, catlike, feet first, crinkling the leaves underneath him. The hem of his shirt was tucked into his teeth, and a little hammock of fresh picked pecans hung over his belly.

He even carried things ridiculously, Zuko thought. Why not shove them into his pockets like a normal person would? Why walk around, bare bellied in the cold, just to collect pecans? Unless, he wanted… unless he was wanting Zuko to look. He shook the cheek flushing thought from his head. Surely, that wasn't it.

"Afraid I'd fall?" Jet asked, now holding the hammock with his hand as opposed to his teeth. That is the moment Zuko realized he may have been looking to him a moment too long.

"I wish you would have," Zuko answered.

Jet laughed, as if seeing right through his feeble attempt. "That hurts Zuko. Even from you."

"How are you this happy?" he found himself asking, unsure of why he was asking it. He supposed it was because Jet had seemed so disheartened at the news of his gang that it seemed impossible he had turned around overnight. He himself was still disheartened from the day before.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jet asked, a hopefulness in his voice that Zuko was jealous of. "I'll find 'em sooner or later," he said, as if he'd completely understood Zuko's vague question without a second thought. He sauntered towards the camp, belly still out as he observed his nature's loot.

Zuko wasn't sure if he should tell him the reality. To say anything the opposite would surely burst this bubble of denial Jet had formed around himself, probably as a defense mechanism. Perhaps he should just let him be hopeful. What harm could it really do?

"So-" Jet said. "Figured out how you're gonna' convince the avatar to let us join?" He positioned himself opposite the campfire, that way his eyes could be trained on Tikka as she slept the morning away.

"Us?" Zuko questioned.

"Well, I guess I should just say you, cause I already figured out what I'm gonna' do," Jet said, lazily folding his legs underneath him as he plucked the pecans from his pouch.

Zuko hated that he did that. Hated that he left his sentences on such vague terms that it warranted a response. Like he was milking the conversation out of him. Getting him just curious enough to continue instead of letting him sulk.

"And what's that?" he asked.

Jet smirked a bit, as if he'd been waiting on the question. It was _infuriating._

"Oh, you know-" Jet said, still smiling to himself as he cracked open a pecan nauseatingly slowly. "Just gotta' make out with Katara a coupla' more times and I'm sure I'll be welcomed back."

" _More_ times?" Zuko asked quickly and despite himself. The surprise in his voice sounded foreign to him, and he was worried that Jet would take it as jealousy. Which it definitely was not.

"You didn't know?" Jet asked, that tiny little smile pulling his stupid lips. "Me and Katara used to be a thing."

"Liar," Zuko said. Katara seemed smarter than that. As far as he could tell.

"Why would I lie?" Jet asked, a fake tinge of hurt in his tone.

Zuko had to think for a moment. Why would he? What purpose would it have?

"That's not gonna' work," Zuko said.

"Why not?" Jet asked, and Zuko knew he wasn't this stupid.

"She's with the avatar," Zuko answered. "I think."

"Ah," Jet said, unsurprised and unwounded by the information. "You seem to know a lot about her," he said curiously.

Zuko couldn't help but feel he was trying to extract some sort of information out of him, but for the life of him he didn't know what.

"Not really," he found himself saying. "We were together in prison, but that's the only time I've ever really talked to her."

"So, you've never made a move on her?"

Zuko furrowed his brow. Why would he? He… hadn't considered it. Why was Jet even asking? Wouldn't he be jealous of such a thing if he was planning on making out with her? Was he just toying with him now? And why, oh why, was he even answering such ridiculous, invasive questions anyway?

"No," he answered, knowing he didn't have to.

He could have sworn Jet's lips twitched towards a smile for just a moment, but why? He didn't make any sense. No sense at all. Much like Azula, he thought a bit grimly for a moment. But at least Jet's mind reading abilities weren't quite up to par with hers, and for the most part, seemed to be used for far less nefarious purposes. Like simply to just piss him off. But still all his purposes remained unclear. At least for now.

"Tell me something," Jet said, a little less mischievousness in his tone now.

Zuko immediately prepared for the worst.

"How is it that there's snow on the ground and you're wearing short sleeves?"

Zuko held his cup very still for a moment. That is definitely not the question he'd expected.

"Well," he said, thinking for a moment. Was Jet genuinely curious about this? Would he like the answer he gave? "Firebenders can regulate their body temperature."

Jet seemed to mull over that information for a moment, looking to somewhere behind Zuko. "So – you can make your body hot?" he asked.

"Something like that," Zuko answered.

There was a long pause, as if Jet was having an epiphany of sorts. 

Jet's voice came out softer this time, softer than Zuko had probably ever heard. "When – when did you know?"

Zuko was confused for a moment, until he realized the intent. Jet was looking at Tikka behind him, and what he was asking him was when he realized he was a _bender_.

"Earlier than I can remember," Zuko answered, a little softly.

Jet paused again for a long while, and it was one of the few times Zuko had ever seen his surety falter visibly. His eyebrows knit together, and his hands seemed to fumble a bit as he picked apart a pecan.

"I-" Zuko started, then deleted it. "There's – there's a way – you can check," he said.

Jet looked to him for a moment, clearly confused. "What?"

"To see," he said. "Benders can feel other benders chi."

Despite the good intention, that was the incorrect thing to say. Jet's hands balled together, and his brows knit together tight as he shot to his legs. " _No,"_ he shouted with a venom Zuko hadn't heard since Ba Sing se. "Don't you _fucking_ touch her."

The shuttering of Jet's breath was visible amongst the cold air, and Zuko held very still for a moment. "I swear to the spirits Zuko, you fucking touch her and I'll cut your _fucking_ head off," he said, although not a shout this time but equally as convincing.

Zuko swallowed the lump in his throat. "I won't," he assured, very calmly. "I promise. I won't."

Jet licked the venom from his lips and inhaled. "Okay," he said, not quite calm but not nearly as angry. "Okay." He unballed his fists, seemingly very reluctantly and rubbed his hand down the hem of his pants.

Zuko watched him seeming to go through every ounce of emotion he had in just a few seconds.

"She's just-" Jet started, then paused. He inhaled a large breath and let it out. "She's all I have," he said, the words coming out as a plea.

"I know," Zuko said softly. And know he did. His uncle was the only thing he had, and he was gone now. If snarling and shouting had been able to protect that, Zuko would have done it too. _Had_ done it before. When Uncle was injured by Azula, he remembered that pain. That desperation. That need to shout when he felt like there wasn't anything else he could do.

Jet's chest rose and fell heavily for a few moments as he looked to somewhere in the distance. "I'm sorry," he said quickly and almost inaudibly.

It took Zuko by such surprise that it took him a moment to register that it had actually been said. "Me too," Zuko said quietly after a long silence. But sorry he was not for any _recent_ events. He hoped Jet would understand. Hope he'd hear _I'm sorry for having lied to you_ in such simple words.

Jet looked to him, brows still knit together - but not in anger anymore. Zuko couldn't meet his gaze, rather just looked into his cup.

Seeming to understand what the apology was for, and all it intended, Jet walked away and went to fetch Tikka without another word.

* * *

The next hour was… uncomfortable, to say the least, but in a way, the both of them felt a little better about the other. More understanding, but quiet and thoughtful the two were non the less.

Jet had went near completely silent again, and Zuko knew that meant to not press him any further. He said he was going to speak to the avatar himself, and Zuko didn't argue the issue; only hoped that his spoken plan to 'make out' with Katara wasn't the actual plan. They packed camp and walked towards to edge of the cliff.

Zuko grappled down first, at the end of the temple in which he knew the avatar's group wasn't, and Jet went down second; Carefully, and delicately, with Tikka on his back opposed to his chest. Zuko knew better than to suggest he didn't, and Jet felt himself sigh in relief as his feet touched bottom. Rosebud waited patiently up top, stalking the rabbit-moles that dwelled in the field above.

"Just stay out of sight," Jet warned him. "I'll let you know what happens."

They weaved through the temple, and upon growing closer, Zuko slipped out of sight as Jet continued towards the area in which the group was. He didn't know exactly where they were and had to search a bit, and all the while an anxiety was growing in his chest.

He rounded a corner and there she was, in water tribe blue, kneeled over a simmering pot with her back faced to him. He paused, his feet seeming to be unable to draw further out into the open. He swallowed the lump in his throat before he spoke.

"Katara," he said softly, halfway in the hallway and halfway out.

She went still, her arm hovering with the ladle in her hand. She looked over her shoulder slowly, as if fearing she would see a ghost. And when she turned, that is exactly what she saw.

Jet waited for her to register for a moment. Her hand dropped the ladle and she stood to face him, a little too quickly for her own good. "Jet?" she asked, her hands drawn up to her chest.

"Yeah," he answered with a soft smile. "It's really me."

"It worked," she breathed, as if the words had lifted a weight from her shoulders.

With how much he'd scorn her and how badly, what she did next was a complete surprise to him. She didn't nail him to the sides of the temple with water spikes. She didn't slosh him over the side with a wave. She didn't do any of the things he'd expected. She walked slowly through the few feet that distanced them and lifted her hands to brush her fingers over his armor, as if to ensure herself that he was real by touching him.

She looked at him for a moment, looking as if she was about to cry at any second. "You're alive," she said again, more for herself than for him.

"Thanks to you," he said with a warm smile.

Her lips drew up just a tad at that, but reluctantly as if she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her smile. He hated it. He hated what he'd done to her. Made her fall for him just so he could use her. And he'd never felt a damn thing for her, no matter how beautiful she was. But what he did feel, very true and near, was the guilt for having done it.

"I'm sorry," he said softly and genuinely and much more easily than he had to Zuko. "For everything before."

She opened her mouth, as if she was about to say that it was okay, then quickly closed it. But he knew it wasn't okay. He was so sure she knew it too.

"I forgave you a long time ago," she said, and for some reason that hit him where it hurt. His breath hitched in his throat, and for one of the few times in his life, he was lost for words. Her hands hovered over him for a few long moments before she let them fall back to her sides.

"Why?" he questioned. It didn't make sense. The last he saw of her; she'd pinned him to a wall. More so how? How could she forgive him? He'd thought what he'd done had been unforgivable.

"I understand a little more now," she said gravely, a little darkly, and for some reason it made him uneasy. Her hands rolled into somewhat of a fist, and it didn't go unnoticed. She looked unsteady on her feet, and as if she was looking through him and not at him. He swallowed, hard. He didn't like what he was seeing. This wasn't her. He was seeing _himself_ – in the time right before he snapped. Before he'd decided that every fire nation head should roll. And now, more so than ever, he could see how unsettling, how wrong, it had felt for everyone around him.

"Katara, I-" he started, the words seeming to hang in his mouth.

Then suddenly, a hair raising crack sounded in the distance; followed immediately by an explosion and debris falling to the earth.

"Stop! I don't want you hunting the Avatar anymore! The mission is off. I'm ordering you to stop!" Zuko shouted.

Jet looked over incredulously to the scene of Zuko flailing his arms towards the assailant, and Katara seemed to snap herself out of whatever fog she'd been in.

"He's back," she said solemnly. Though Jet wasn't sure if she was referring to the strange man or Zuko. "Come on! We gotta' take cover!"

Jet followed as Katara yanked his wrist towards wherever she was leading him. He trusted she knew where to go better than he did. His eyes were trained on Zuko the entire time as his feet padded across the stone.

"If you keep attacking, I won't pay you!" Zuko shouted at the man, who seemed indifferent to his words. Zuko tried to firebend at him, but the larger man snatched him by front of his shirt and held him tight. "All right! I'll pay you double to stop!"

Any other situation, and Jet would have laughed. But the startled Tikka on his back whimpering was telling him otherwise.

The man held Zuko tight and took aim once more. Jet's face fell as their eyes seemed to meet from afar. Zuko lifted a leg and landed a kick to him, causing the blast to go elsewhere. Otherwise, the strange explosion surely would have blown them to pieces. Great. _Another_ thing he has to thank Zuko for. Katara led him behind a series of pillars and Jet peered around them, his heart hammering in his chest.

But he feared he wouldn't get the chance to thank him. The man, frustrated with Zuko's antics, took aim straight at him. Zuko's heart stopped as the strange crackling fired up once more. In defense, he whirled a shield of fire around himself as the blast sent him off the side.

Jet held very still for a moment as he watched the smoke clear, and his heart fell to his stomach upon seeing the man, alone, on the stone balcony; Zuko nowhere in sight.

The rest of the gang had seemed to catch up at this point, running to take cover along with them. Sokka and Aang looked at him incredulously, but Toph seemed unsurprised.

"Jet?" Sokka and Aang both asked simultaneously, their breathing heavy.

"Hey, Sokka. Hey, Aang," he said. "Catch up later, yeah?" he said quickly.

Sokka just nodded. Aang furrowed his brows as he peered around the columns.

Another explosion sounded, this one way too close for comfort. It startled Tikka so bad she had started to scream, but there wasn't much comforting to be done at the moment. Jet positioned her in the corner, his body in front of hers so she wouldn't get hit by debris.

"He's trying to blow the whole place off the cliff side!" Toph called.

"Shit, shit, shit," Jet murmured. He wasn't used to feeling this fucking defenseless. Even if he didn't have Tikka, his swords were useless against this.

Katara peered around, having to duck quickly back into cover as yet another explosion sent rocks flying. "I can't step out to waterbend at him without being blown up, and I can't get a good enough angle on him from down here!"

Sokka paused for a minute, the idea quickly coming to him. "I know how to get an angle on him!" He held his boomerang tight in his hand, peering around the column and aiming as best he could. "All right buddy, don't fail me now!"

Once it left his hand, there was a long silence. The seconds seeming to take years to go by. The boomerang whipped through the air, and Sokka caught it once more. "Yeah, boomerang!" Sokka celebrated. The man held his face, clearly shaken, but stood proud once more. "Awww, boomerang!"

The deafening crackle sounded, as well as another explosion, but yet, nothing happened this time. The gang held still in their hiding place for a moment, waiting with their hearts against their ribs.

Finally, Sokka had the nerve to look around, and the man, as well as the platform he'd been standing on, were nothing more than rubble now.

"He's gone," he said, the relief evident in his voice. "He's dead."

Jet pushed past the group immediately, half running to the open stone and peering around. He looked for what felt like hours for Zuko to appear. Then, he spotted him; Struggling his way up a tree root than had overgrown the side of the temple. Tikka still cried against him, but she was unharmed. Only startled.

"Aang, quick do me a favor," Jet said, the hurriedness in his voice evident as he untied the linens that held Tikka against him. "Take her, and calm her down for me. I gotta' go help."

Aang went to him a little surprised but took Tikka without a word. As soon as she'd left his hands, Jet took off to the platform and clambered up, his breath high in his chest and his heart in his stomach. He could feel the gang's eyes on him as he ran to where Zuko was dangling, but no matter. They could deal with it.

He looked over the side, and Zuko was pawing his way up the root.

"Shit," Jet said, a bit of panic in his voice. He went down to his knees and held his hands down. "Come on, just a little more and I'll pull you up."

Zuko's hands were struggling, but he made it high enough to snatch Jet's forearm. Jet's grip tightened like a vice on him, using all the strength in both his arms to pull Zuko over the side. Zuko fell over the threshold, almost on top of him but not quite. He rolled to his back and swallowed the lump in his throat as Jet sat with him for a moment to catch their breaths.

Zuko's breath was ragged, but he managed a "Thanks."

"No problem," Jet answered breathily, licking his lips in relief. "I guess I owe you a thanks too."

Zuko smiled an adrenaline fueled grin, putting his hand over his heaving chest and staring at the sky for a moment.

"That was crazy," Jet breathed, like it wasn't obvious.

Zuko chuckled a little bit. "Seriously."

Jet smiled despite himself. He'd never really heard Zuko laugh like that. At least so openly. Guess almost dying will do that to a guy.

Jet stood and brushed to dust that had collected on his clothes, and a moment later Zuko lifted himself to a sitting position, the breath in his lungs seeming to finally get him somewhere.

And suddenly, the eyes of everyone else were much more prevalent. It was almost tangible how all of the attention was on them. Jet cleared his throat as if they'd hear it. "I – I gotta' go get the kid," he said, as if he needed an excuse to leave. He stepped away, almost reluctantly as Zuko stood to straighten his clothes. He followed with wobbly legs but not _too_ closely behind Jet.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but thanks Zuko," Aang said as he met them halfway, the rest of the gang close behind him. Jet reached his hands out for Tikka and Aang handed her over with a warm smile.

"Hey what about me? I did the boomerang thing," Sokka noted.

"Trusty boomerang," Jet said humorously.

"And you," Sokka started. "Well, welcome back to the land of the living," he said casually, as if that were anywhere near appropriate.

Jet chuckled a bit as Katara shot Sokka the look.

"Thanks, Sokka," he said.

Jet could see all of them shooting eyes between him and Zuko behind him, as if trying to fit together some type of puzzle he himself hadn't put together. He rocked Tikka somewhat mindlessly, trying not to hold anyone's gaze for too long.

"So, what a – what brings you here?" Sokka asked. "Because I'm _really_ confused right now."

"At least someone said it," Aang said.

"I uh- I wanna' join you guys," Jet said, more sheepishly than he'd hoped for. "I've uh- changed. A lot. And I wanna' help."

"Clearly," Sokka said, his eyes darting between Jet and Zuko once more. "But I thought you uh – hated – uh, you know," Sokka said, as if trying not to offend Zuko. For some reason.

"Obviously not," Toph said. "They've been traveling together." Then suddenly all eyes were on her. "What?" she defended, feeling all the heads turn to her. "I know things."

Zuko cleared his throat from behind him, drawing all eyes to him. Jet turned to face him, and Zuko's shoulders were high, his back straight. Just like he'd showed him.

"Listen, I know I didn't explain myself very well yesterday, I've been through a lot in the last few years, and it's been hard. But I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me. But I know now that no one can give you your honor. It's something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what's right," he said, and Jet didn't miss the subtle glance he shot him.

"All I want to do now is play my part in ending this war, and I know my destiny is to help you restore balance to the world."

Jet stood a bit slack jawed for a moment. He'd never expected _Zuko_ to give a better speech than he did. And his words… besides the father part which he didn't quite understand yet, it was everything Jet had _intended_ to say. Everything he felt, through and through, down to the tee. From _Zuko's_ mouth.

Aang pondered for a few moments, seeming to mull it over. When he spoke, it was very soft, but sincere.

"If Jet can trust you enough to travel with you, then I guess I can too," he said.

Jet tried hard not to let that get to him, but he supposed he deserved it. Aang turned to him too. "I'm happy you're here with us, Jet. I was worried. I can see a change in you too, and we could use skills like yours." Aang bowed to the both of them, and Jet was unsure if he should reciprocate it, didn't even know how to really, but Zuko didn't hesitate to.

"Thank you. I'm so happy you've accepted me into your group," Zuko said sincerely.

"Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it's okay with them. Toph, what do you think?" Aang asked.

Toph shrugged. "Eh, go ahead and let them join."

"Sokka?"

"Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then, I'm all for it," he answered.

"Katara?"

She gave a long pause, looking between Jet and Zuko unsurely. "I'll go along with whatever you think is right."

Zuko and Jet both shined toothy smiles at the group, but only Zuko spoke. "I won't let you down! I promise!"

The group dispersed without much else, and Zuko and Jet looked to each other quickly, still smiling like too-happy goofballs. Zuko seemed to realize what he was doing rather quickly and looked down and away, a flush running up his cheeks. Jet's grin grew a little wider as Zuko stepped away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong." - Lao Tzu

Sokka led Jet and Zuko to their rooms, very much looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. He looked to the side of him, and Zuko was staring at his feet. He looked to the other side of him to the baby, then to Jet, who raised a brow at him.

"What?" Jet asked, not unkindly.

"Nothing," Sokka said, then whistled a lazy tune. He looked backed to the baby. It was like he couldn't stop. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. No matter how confusing the situation was, when a baby smiles, you smile back.

"So, uh, got a baby now, huh?" Sokka asked.

"Long story," Jet answered.

Sokka nudged him playfully. "I bet it is," he said jokingly, a little suggestively. He immediately realized how fucking weird it probably sounded, especially when Jet didn't laugh. "Yeeeahh, it - sounded different in my head." He fell silent once more.

Jet smirked when Sokka turned to face forwards again. This was gonna' be a lot more fun than he could have hoped for.

Sokka looked to Zuko, who was still looking at the floor as they walked.

"So, Zuko," he said. "Where'd you meet our friend Jet here?"

Zuko paused for a moment. "He's _not_ my friend."

Jet frowned, then smirked a bit. "He's right, you know."

Sokka looked to Jet, very much confused.

"We're _best_ friends," Jet clarified as he looked past Sokka to Zuko. "Isn't that right, Zuko?"

Zuko furrowed his brow and scowled at him. Jet just smiled.

"O- okay," Sokka said, feeling very uncomfortable. He shifted his feet and gestured towards a series of doorframes, all the same. "Well, pick any one. Home sweet home, I guess, you know, for now. Unpack? Lunch, soon? Uhhh ... welcome aboard?"

Jet and Zuko both nodded to him, and he shifted on his feet and turned around.

"Yeah, this is really, really weird," he said to himself, turning away and walking back down the hall.

After Sokka had made it a good distance away, Jet turned to Zuko.

"So, which one you taking?" Jet asked.

"Does it matter?" Zuko asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jet said.

Zuko sighed. "I guess this one," he answered, vaguely wafting his arms towards the door behind him.

Jet turned around and eyed the door right across the hall, pondering. "Okay, so I'll take this one."

"Do you have to be so close to me?" Zuko asked, exhausted.

"Duh," Jet answered. "Have to keep an eye on you. Keep you from doing crafty firebender stuff."

Zuko sighed again. "Whatever," he said as he opened the thatch door and slipped inside.

Jet smiled a little to himself as he went to go to his own room. He was halfway in, when he heard Zuko speak again.

"Hey Jet?"

He turned around and raised an eyebrow.

"You forgot about Rosebud," Zuko said plainly, peering out the doorframe.

Jet's face fell. He _did_ forget about Rosebud. How could he forget about Rosebud?

"Shit," he said, shifting on his feet. He did a little weird movement before starting a sprint down the hall. "Sokka! Wait! I know I just got here, but I need a favor!"

Zuko smiled to himself as Jet rounded the corner. Idiot.

* * *

Rosebud laid atop Appa's saddle, toying with a rabbit-mole she'd caught and refused to let go of. They were descending downwards towards the temple, and Jet was still surprised how calm she was while in the air. Perhaps the previous owner, Tikka's father, had flown with her before.

"What is that thing?" Sokka asked curiously from Appa's neck.

"A cat-deer," Jet answered from his spot next to him.

"Oh, okay," Sokka said. "Where'd you find it?"

Jet paused for a moment and let out a long sigh. "It was the kid's father's. He was - a fire nation soldier."

Sokka thought about that for a moment, staying silent as he mulled it over.

"I didn't kill him," Jet said, not unkindly but defensive non the less. "Or her mom. They were already dead when I found her."

Sokka looked to him with what seemed like sympathy. "I didn't say you did," he said reassuringly.

There was a long pause, the wind ruffling their hair being the only sound for a few moments.

"You know, Katara's really happy you're alive," Sokka said, unprompted.

Jet looked to his hands for a few moments. "I know," he said softly.

"Just – just don't hurt her again," Sokka said, not angrily. More of a plea.

"You don't have to worry about that Sokka," Jet reassured.

"I want to believe that," Sokka said. "I do, but - that's my sister, you know?"

"I know," Jet said. "If it makes you feel any better," Jet started, then paused to inhale a breath. Sokka looked to him curiously.

"Women aren't my thing," Jet settled on it.

"Women aren't your th-" Sokka started, confused, then realized. "-Oh."

Jet looked to him for a moment, trying to hide the fact that he was amused. "Yeah – your, uh, your sister helped me realize that," he said, immediately realizing what he said. "Do _not_ tell her about that part."

"Hey, my lips are sealed," Sokka said truthfully. " _I_ don't have to worry about you, do I?"

Jet chuckled a bit. "No, Sokka. You're not quite my thing either."

Sokka looked a bit offended. "Why not? What's wrong with me?"

"Don't you like women anyway?" Jet asked, a grin wrapping his lips.

"Yeah, but still," Sokka said with a shrug, trying to make light of it all. "That would be like, the ultimate compliment."

Jet chuckled a bit. "You're very handsome Sokka. There, you happy?"

"Why, yes I am," Sokka said happily.

Appa touched ground on the temple, and the two parted ways.

* * *

Jet secured Rosebud as well as he could within the temple grounds. She was a free creature though, and he preferred it to stay that way. They were the Freedom Fighters, after all. She meandered a bit, but no one really seemed to mind it.

There were some other kids there being watched by a guy around his age. Haru, he believed his name was. Teo, and much to Jet's surprise, The Duke were the kids in question.

The Duke, with his always too-large helmet, looked at him for a few moments, but ultimately decided he didn't want to speak to him. It made Jet a little disheartened, but he couldn't really blame him for it. He wanted to say he was sorry. To ask where Pipsqueak was. But he decided perhaps it'd be better to let The Duke come to him on his own. Haru seemed to be a good guy, and Jet trusted him to take good care, which made the situation feel marginally better. The kids played with Rosebud non the less, and Jet went back to his room to lay Tikka down for a much-needed nap.

Her feet were on Jet's feet as they walked down the hallway, her hands in his as he swung her legs forwards for her. She seemed to be having a good time with the activity, smiling at her pretend walk.

His ears perked at a voice up the hallway, Katara's from the sound of it. He waddled with Tikka towards his room and tried to ignore it, but the voice was right across the hall. In _Zuko's_ room. He slipped into his room and waited near the thatch door; after he slid Tikka into the bed, of course. Even if he hadn't been trying to eavesdrop, Katara's venomous voice carried to his room anyway.

"You might have everyone else here buying your ... "transformation", but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So, let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends ... right then and there. Permanently."

Then, her footsteps faded down the hall and around the corner. Jet peeked out the door, making sure she was gone before he exited.

The rolled door to Zuko's room was savagely thrown back, caught on the stone, leaving a triangle of open space for Jet to unintentionally see into. Zuko was sat on his bed, his face in his hands, rolled into himself.

Jet gave a quick knock on the stone, causing Zuko to shoot up from his hands.

"Can I come in?" he asked a _little_ softly, peeling the door back a little more than it already was.

"Sure," Zuko said, more defeated than Jet had probably ever heard.

Jet leaned against the wall near the door, his foot kicked back against the stone and his arms crossed casually on his chest. Zuko looked at him, confused for a moment, but ultimately decided the stone was a better place to settle his eyes.

"She gave you the what for," Jet said after a minute.

"You heard that, huh?" Zuko asked, still looking to the floor.

"Yeah," Jet answered. "Not on purpose, but I did."

Zuko inhaled a breath and let it out. "She hates me," he said, more sigh than words.

"Maybe," Jet said. "She hated me too, though. But - she forgave me - eventually," he said a little sadly. "And what you did couldn't possibly be worse than what I did. So, just give her time. She'll come around."

Zuko thought for a moment. "What – what did you do?" he asked, thinking nothing could be worse than what _he_ did.

"You don't wanna' know," Jet answered, a little quietly. "If you did, well, you wouldn't want me standing in your room. But that isn't me anymore, and you aren't you anymore. So, just give it time."

Zuko couldn't help but to wonder, but perhaps Jet would tell him sooner or later. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll try."

Jet smiled a little and kicked himself from the wall.

"Alright. See ya later Li," he said softly but casually. He gave a little wave before dipping back under the rolled door.

Zuko smiled a little once he'd fully made it out. Jet called him _Li_. Which in it of itself is better than pretty boy. But _Li._ Like a joke rather than the stain or the painful lie he knew that it was.

Jet didn't have to say that it hurt him that he'd lied to him. He knew it did, for reasons becoming clearer by the day. Jet hadn't scolded him for being a prince. Or being fire nation. Or even a fire _bender_. He'd scolded him for _lying_ to him, and for the first time Zuko fully understood what that meant. And why he felt so compelled to fix it.

 _At least I'm not a liar –_ Jet had spat at him the first night in the cave with such wavering that it sounded more like _betrayal_ than anger.

But now, he called him Li with such air and light heartedness in his voice that it made Zuko's heart skip a little. Because – maybe today - _someone_ had forgiven him. At least a little. And that counted for something.

He rolled his legs onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. She'll come around, he told himself. And maybe – maybe Jet could come around some more too.

Just give it time.

* * *

Zuko didn't have the nerve to go have dinner with the group. Not yet, at least. The most he could handle was one person at a time. Slowly inching towards trust, but not quite part of the group yet.

Tikka was wide awake this night, her nap having been too far into the day. She was restless, and Jet obliged her. He didn't really want to speak to anyone, but perhaps she could use the socialization. She'd only known him for the past few months. It'd be selfish of him to deny her other interaction because he'd rather draw into himself.

He walked her down the stone hallway and out into the camp area where the others were. Most everyone was asleep already, and the campfire burned by its lonesome. He could see Katara and Aang doing something in the distance, mere silhouettes walking and talking. But he was wary of approaching anyone for conversation, so he just plopped down by the fire and let Tikka crawl around a bit. Carefully and watchfully, of course.

There was a pot sat off to the side of the fire, dinner from earlier he assumed. But he didn't dare touch it, no matter how much his stomach yearned for a hot meal and not scraps from the forest. It wasn't his place yet. Wasn't his meal yet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katara split off from Aang. His heartbeat quickened when he noticed she was approaching him. Aang flew off into the night sky with his glider to somewhere Jet didn't know.

He kept his eyes of the fire, still not quite able to look Katara in her face. Not fully at least. He shot her a glance when she sat a few feet away from him, and she was looking at him with an expression he couldn't place. Even on her.

"You can have some food, if you want," she said softly.

"I'm okay," he said back.

"Your baby might want some," she said kindly, disregarding him.

He smiled a little at that. "Okay, Katara. You got me."

She smiled a little too, then stood to scoop a bit of the meal, rice and some type of meat he couldn't place, into a bowl from a stack they had sitting by. She handed it to him gingerly, and he noticed it was way too much food for just Tikka. She retook her spot a few feet away. She was always too kind for her own good. Still was.

She sat quiet for a few moments and fiddled with something in her hands, but he didn't dare look long enough to figure out what it was. He scooped Tikka into his lap and fed her in silence. At least he had a distraction too.

When she spoke again, it was soft but confident and not at all unkind. Like she'd practiced it in her head but still didn't _want_ to say it. But he knew it was probably something she felt the _need_ to say. And well, she had every right to tell him. Every right to dig it in him like a knife, but she didn't. He sickly wished she would have. But she kept it just plain and simple, probably for her own sake. Not all emotionless, but close.

"I don't love you anymore."

But heartbreaking it was to hear, non the less.

But he wouldn't dare show it. This was for her. Not for him. "I know," he said softly. "I'm glad."

She sat quiet for a moment, still twiddling whatever was in her hands. "Sokka told me what you said."

"Which part?" he asked softly. Though for some reason he didn't mind her knowing all of it.

"That your baby is fire nation," she said quietly. "…And that you like men."

He stayed silent. Hearing it out loud cemented the idea in a way he was unsure of, but he supposed no one here really cared. There were much better things to worry about than who he liked.

"Has it always been that way?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just didn't know it for a while," he answered softly. "Does it help at all? Knowing that?"

She thought for a moment, which was more reassuring than if she'd answered right away. "I guess a little, yeah. Makes a lot more add up, at least."

And what she meant by that; he was unsure. But he wasn't going to ask. He wondered if perhaps others knew before he ever did. That he'd shown some sort of sign – but it didn't really matter anyway.

"I wanna' be friends," she said after a moment. "Mostly so I can hold your baby, not because I like you," she said jokingly.

He smiled at that. "Of course, Katara."

She looked at him a little too expectantly then.

"Oh, you mean right now?" he asked.

She chuckled a little. "Well, sure. Only if you don't mind," she answered.

And mind he didn't. If there was anyone he trusted to give nothing but motherly love, it was Katara. He handed Tikka over and she took her with open arms, smiling like she'd just won the lottery.

"She's so cute," she said happily.

"I know," he answered. "So are you," he said truthfully.

She blushed a little and gave him the look. "Stop it."

"What? You think since I like men, that's gonna' stop me from making _you_ blush?" he asked. "You _can't_ stop me. You make it way too easy. And it's way too much fun."

She smiled a little. "You're ridiculous."

"And _you're_ beautiful, Katara," he said with an amused smile. "Just – unfortunately for you - you don't have a dick."

She chuckled out loud at that, her cheeks bursting, the absurdity too much to bear. "Spirits, Jet."

He smiled unapologetically and waited for her to rub the laughter from her eyes. "I'm glad we talked about this," he said softly and sincerely.

Katara smiled too as Tikka began to reach for Jet once more. He stood and reached over and took her without a word.

"Me too," Katara said after Tikka had left her hands.

"I'll always have a soft spot for you, you know," Jet said with a warm smile as he looked down to her, Tikka on his hip. And he meant it too.

"I know," she answered. "I guess I could say the same for you. You're pretty hard to stay mad at."

"And if Aang ever gives you any trouble, let me know. I'll give him the what for."

She chuckled a little at that too. "Oh, yeah right. Like you could."

He chuckled because it was true. He wouldn't touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Not anymore, at least.

"Goodnight, Katara," he said warmly.

"Goodnight, Jet," she returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because angry Jet makes me sad. And soft Jet makes me happy.   
> Also, I almost forgot about Rosebud too. My poor OC


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders." - Lao Tzu

"What was that? That was the worst firebending I've ever seen!" Zuko exclaimed.

Why, oh, why do these things happen to him? Of _course_ , he leaves his entire home and country behind _just_ to show the avatar how to firebend, and he _can't even fucking do it._

"I thought it was ... nice," Aang comforted, noting the tiny plume of smoke still wafting about in the air.

"Why is this happening?" he asked out loud, more to the dammed universe than to anyone else. Just fuck him, right? Like with everything else?

"Maybe it's the altitude," Aang suggested, knowing damn well it wasn't the altitude.

"Yeah, could be," Zuko sheepishly said.

* * *

"Just breathe, and ..."

Still nothing.

"That one kind of felt hot," Aang comforted.

"Don't patronize me! You know what it's supposed to look like!" Zuko shouted.

"Sorry, Sifu Hotman," Aang retorted.

"And stop calling me that!" he spat.

He heard a chuckle from somewhere. A familiar chuckle. Neither his nor Aang's. His brows immediately furrowed as he looked for the sound.

"Up here, pretty boy," Jet said from his leisurely spot, his legs draped around a thick tree branch. He was barely visible and not very high up, surrounded by leaves and thin twigs with Tikka sat happily on his lap. "Or should I say Sifu Hotman."

"What are you doing, Jet?" Zuko scolded.

"Nothing. Just watching you have your – _performance_ issues," Jet said with only a slight hint of suggestiveness.

Zuko's face immediately went beet red. Aang didn't seem to get the joke.

"Oh, and what would you know about it!" Zuko spat.

"I know it's supposed to be bigger than that," Jet said casually. "And not so… _limp_ ," he added, just for good measure.

Zuko didn't have to see the smirk. He could fucking _hear_ it.

Sokka cut in before he could. "Hey, jerks! Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?"

"Will you two get out of here!" Zuko spat.

"Two?" Sokka asked, confused.

"Hey Sokka," Jet answered, still hidden. If one didn't know he was there, one would think it was the tree speaking.

"Oh, hey Jet," Sokka said. "Didn't see you there."

"Did you hear my performance issue joke?" Jet asked.

Sokka chuckled. "No, but it sounds like a pretty good one!"

"Yeah, I told him his fire should be bigger than that," Jet said. "Oh, and that it was limp," he added casually.

Sokka chuckled more. Zuko was sure he was having an aneurysm.

"Get _out_ of here!" he reiterated.

"Okay, take it easy. I was just kiddin' around," Sokka defended. He chuckled a little to himself as he turned to walk away. "Jerkbending, still got it."

" _Your_ turn Jet," Zuko spat.

"You don't tell me what to do," Jet replied. "I'm a free man."

"Jet, I swear to the spirits," Zuko murmured.

"What are you gonna' do? _Firebend_ at me?" Jet prodded. "Even Tikka can firebend better than you."

Zuko's eyebrow perked. "Shut up. No, she can't."

"How do _you_ know?"

"Because she's a _baby_ ," Zuko noted.

"Yeah, and she does little baby firebending moves," Jet retorted. "Fire _everywhere_. It's a real disaster. Have to keep little gloves on her to prevent her from destroying nations."

Zuko couldn't help the smile that pulled his lips. That was the goofiest, and weirdly cutest, thing he'd ever heard. But he wouldn't give Jet the satisfaction. Wouldn't dignify his prodding with a smile.

"Uh, guys," Aang interjected.

Zuko turned to him a little sheepishly. He'd kinda' forgotten he was even there. Too busy being prodded by a bush.

"Why don't we try again later?" Aang asked.

* * *

But later never came.

Zuko's chi was moving syrupy slow, almost to a halt now. It didn't make any sense, and it was troublesome. He paced the stone floors in his room; an animal trapped in a cage. If it had been dirt on his floor, there'd be a rut by now.

He was broken from his thought by the rolled door to his room being shuffled back. Jet emerged a moment later, looking as distraught as Zuko felt.

"What's wrong with your bending?" Jet asked pointedly the moment he'd fully made it in.

"Why do you care?" Zuko murmured.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jet retorted. "I want to save the world too, you know. And part of that is _you_ teaching the avatar firebending. So, I have to suck it up and figure this the hell out."

Zuko paused for a moment at that and sighed. "Where's Tikka?" he asked, just trying to avoid.

"Napping," Jet answered. "Now back to you sucking at firebending."

Zuko pawed his face for a moment, pulling the skin down with a frustrated huff.

"I don't know what's wrong with it," he answered, letting his hands fall back to his sides. "It's not gone, just… weaker. For some reason."

"Well, what changed?" Jet asked. "I don't know how bending works, but you had to have changed _something_ for it to just _stop_."

Zuko thought for a moment, rubbing his chin as he did. His face lit up a moment later.

"I bet it's because I changed _sides_."

"That sounds _stupid_ , Zuko," Jet retorted.

"I'm serious," Zuko said, throwing his hands out. "It's been getting harder and harder to bend ever since I left the palace. And now it just… won't do anything."

"Well, if that's it, then maybe it's your emotions or something that control it," Jet suggested. "How did you feel _before_ when you bended?"

"Angry," Zuko answered pointedly and honestly.

Jet didn't like that answer, but he didn't really expect anything else. He remembered the look in the eyes of the soldiers that burned down his village. Spiteful. Angry. Their flames viscous with fury as it left their palms.

But he pushed the thought away.

"So, maybe you're just not angry enough," he said. "You relied on rage and you don't have it anymore."

"That's rich coming from you," Zuko noted.

Jet sighed, long and low.

"I'm trying to _help_ you," Jet said. "Not make low blows."

Zuko rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, even if you're right, I don't want to rely on hate and anger anymore. There _has_ to be another way."

"What other way?" Jet asked. "Shouldn't there be a manual for this shit? You don't have _any_ way too look into it?"

"Manual? Why would you think there's a man-" Zuko paused. "Wait."

"What, pretty boy? Spit it out!"

"There's – there's some ruins not too far from here. They might tell us something," Zuko answered.

"Ruins? What kinda' ruins?"

"The first people to learn from the dragons. The Sun Warriors."

Jet huffed and let his arms out. "Okay, so – you're just supposed to find the secret to _firebending_ in some old _rocks_?"

"I don't know, okay?! But I have to _try_!" Zuko answered. "Either that or I can't teach the avatar firebending. And we risk losing the war."

Jet chewed his blade of grass for a moment, his brow creasing in contemplation. "Okay," he finally agreed. "We can try it."

"We?" Zuko questioned.

"Yes, 'we'!" Jet spat.

"Why do _you_ need to know the secret to firebending?" Zuko asked.

Jet paused at that, trying to think of the best way to answer.

"For Tikka," he finally settled. "If – if she is, a bender I mean, I don't want – I don't want her to be angry. - If – if there's another way, I want to know it. I have to face this. For her."

And there was nothing Zuko could say to argue that.

* * *

Zuko lifted the cloth of the balloon, shuffling anxiously along, trying to figure it out. The morning sun was just peeking over the horizon as he did. He wouldn't dare ask to use Appa. Aang would definitely not allow him and _Jet_ to use his precious bison. So what we he supposed to do to get to the fucking ruins? Spirits, how does he get himself into situations like these? Going to search for firebending secrets with _Jet_ , of all people.

"Bout time," Jet said out of nowhere.

Zuko jumped in his skin. " _Fuck_ , Jet!" he scolded.

Jet just smirked. "Scare you?"

Zuko wouldn't dignify it with a response. "Where's Tikka?" he questioned.

"With Katara," Jet answered. "Don't question my methods."

Zuko looked at him for a moment, then fumbled with the cloth of the balloon some more.

"We're taking the balloon?" Jet questioned.

"Yeah," Zuko answered.

"Don't you need _bending_ to use the balloon?" Jet questioned.

"Yeah, but only a little," Zuko answered.

Jet sighed. "You're an idiot. Did you see your bending yesterday? It sucked ass. And you want me to put my _life_ in the hands of your shitty firebending?"

Zuko's hands smoked a little bit. "Look, how else are we supposed to get there?!" he spat.

Jet smirked a bit and rubbed his chin. "This just might work, Zuko."

"What are you talking about?" Zuko questioned.

"I just have to piss you off right?" Jet questioned. "To make your magic hands work?"

Zuko looked at him, his brow furrowed. "Uh," he said. "I mean, that might work."

"Soo," Jet said, thinking for a moment. "You're telling me, this is a _free_ one?"

"A free wha-" Zuko started, then Jet's fist connected with his cheek; Hard with a follow through too. He doubled back, _fuming_ , a crease of blood forming on his lip. He ran his tongue along his cheek and tasted iron. "What the fuck?!"

"Now fire the damn balloon!" Jet spat.

* * *

Jet looked at Zuko from his seat opposite. Zuko was poking at his swollen cheek, and for a moment Jet felt a little bad. Only a little. But hey, it worked, didn't it?

"I'm not sorry," he said.

"I know you're not," Zuko replied.

"At least it only took one," Jet comforted. "Right?"

Zuko smirked a bit. "Yeah, I guess. And I've got plenty of time to get you back for it."

Jet smirked too. "Oh, yeah right. Like you could."

Zuko looked amused for a moment, Jet noticed. It looked good on him.

"Tell that to Ba Sing Se," Zuko retorted. "I haven't forgotten."

"Eh," Jet said. "I was going easy on you."

"That's what they all say," Zuko said.

Jet chuckled a little. "Yeah, Li got me. I'll give you that. But Zuko won't. I know all your dirty firebender tricks now."

"What tricks? I beat you fair and square," Zuko said. "Just admit it."

"No, the Dai Li got me fair and square," Jet said. "I woulda' kept going. - I probably would have killed you," he said a little less amused now.

Zuko fell silent for a moment, not really knowing what to say to that.

"But – I'm glad I didn't," Jet said, plain and simple.

Zuko couldn't help the little smile that pulled his lips. Jet was looking elsewhere, so he didn't really have to hide it.

"It bothers me," Jet said, lower now.

Zuko's smile faded. "What does?"

"What the Dai Li did to me," Jet answered, no more than a murmur from across the balloon. He was looking out into the distance, a look Zuko had grown to know as familiar. He was in his thoughts. The bad kind. And Zuko knew better than to respond. There was nothing he could say, and he knew that.

"I fought for the Earth Kingdom," Jet continued, quiet and thoughtful. "All my life, I fought for them. My heart and soul…" He fell off for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "And they did _that_ to me. My own country. Brainwashed me. Betrayed me. After everything I did to protect it…"

Zuko twiddled a thread on his shirt. 

"I'm sorry," he said softly after a moment. "You didn't deserve that."

"Maybe I did," Jet said pointedly, low and soft still.

"I understand how you feel," Zuko said, looking to the hands in his lap.

Jet finally looked to him; his brows creased in confusion. "How?" he asked plainly.

Zuko sighed and rubbed his hands on his pants. Jet waited patiently, for once in his life, for Zuko to gather his thoughts. Zuko reached a hand up to his face, taking two fingers and pulling the skin gently below his scar. Just holding it there for a moment, and letting out a long breath of air. Jet watched him curiously, but held his tongue for Zuko to explain.

"My country did _this_ to me," he said lowly, dropping his hand back to his lap. "I thought – I thought I deserved it too."

Jet snorted, but not in amusement. More baffled than anything.

"You're an idiot if you ever thought you deserved that," Jet said, no drama in it. Just a statement.

"Yeah," Zuko agreed.

Jet looked off into the distance for a while, not really saying much else. Zuko didn't either, not really knowing what else to say. He guided the balloon downwards and towards the temple, and the two stayed silent the whole way.

Even up through the temple, Jet's brows were creased in concentration. The silence was almost comforting, Zuko thought. Like they were above meaningless small talk. They had always seemed to be that way, it seemed. Except for when Jet got a bug up his ass and wanted to annoy him. But other than that, Zuko had grown used to the long silences.

A trap door opened before them, and the both of them dodged easily out of the way of the spikes. Like it was an inconvenience rather than a weapon. They walked up the endless stairs towards the temple, stopping once they'd made it as far as the steps would take them.

They walked towards the building up top, stopping to note the carving on it. Two dragons bursting fire from their mouths around a man in the middle.

"They look pretty angry to me," Jet said, running his hand down the stone. "Are dragons even real? I feel like they're a myth."

Zuko looked to him for a moment, a bit confused and a bit amused. "Of course, dragons are real. Why would you think they're not?"

The two started walking again, across a beaten stone bridge to the center of the temple.

"Have _you_ ever seen one?" Jet noted. "I haven't."

"I haven't either, but –" Zuko started, then sighed. "My uncle has."

"Your _uncle_?" Jet asked, bemused. "Saw a _dragon_?"

"He killed one," Zuko clarified.

Jet stopped in his tracks for a moment. "Liar," he said.

"I'm serious," Zuko said as he waited on him to move his feet again. Jet did after a second, and the two walked side by side once more. "My grandfather Sozin started the tradition of hunting dragons for glory. There were the ultimate firebenders. And if you could conquer one, your firebending talents would become legendary and you'd earn the honorary title, Dragon. The last great dragon was conquered long before I was born, by my uncle. The Dragon of the West."

Jet furrowed his brows in thought. "You're telling me, your uncle, your fat _teashop_ uncle, is the Dragon of the West?" he challenged. "Your _uncle_ took down the walls of Ba Sing Se?"

"Yep," Zuko said simply.

" _So you've been there before?"_

" _Once. When I was a ... different man."_

It made sense now. Jet didn't know how he'd missed it. But everything was starting to pull together. He thought for a moment, thinking about just how badly Zuko and his Uncle both were always _so_ bad at lying. They told him to his face the truth over and over. And he never caught on. Well, until he did, that is.

"Okay," Jet said, nodding his head. It was a little impressive, he had to admit. Not out loud, of course.

They finally made it across the bridge to yet another building. This one looked important, at least. Large impressive stone doors always meant something good was behind them.

"Great. Now how to get in," Jet said, mostly to himself.

"It's a celestial calendar. Just like the Fire Sages have in their temples. I bet that sunstone opens the door, but only when sunlight hits at just the right angle. - On the solstice," Zuko said, a little defeated.

"Oh, yeah. We can just wait here for the fucking solstice," Jet said with a snort. Zuko shot him a look, but Jet ignored him.

"No, we can't. But we might be able to speed time up. Let's see if we can outsmart the sunstone," Zuko retorted, lowering his sword to the ground where the stone's reflection was. Jet watched him as he did. Didn't really have much else to do. After a few moments, it seemed to have worked, and the doors popped open just a tad.

Jet smirked as they did. "You know Zuko, I don't care what everyone else says about you. You're pretty smart sometimes." Then he walked towards the door and peeled it open.

Zuko smiled a little, then realized. "Fuck you," he retorted, and Jet just laughed.

They walked inside and looked around, examining the statues lined in a circle. Jet seemed oddly interested, to Zuko's surprise. But he guessed anybody would be. It _was_ pretty interesting. Not many people got to see the inside of a Sun Warrior Temple.

Zuko stood in front of the first statue, reading the inscription at the bottom.

"It's called the dancing dragon," he said.

"Lame," Jet retorted.

Zuko furrowed his brow, then turned to face the statue again. Just – just out of curiosity, when Jet wasn't looking of course, he lifted his arm and leg and copied the position.

To his surprise, a stone sunk under his foot. He looked down at it, then around to Jet, who was still meandering around the circle.

"Hey Jet?" he said.

Jet turned and raised a brow.

"I think we – I think we have to do the dance," Zuko said sheepishly.

Jet laughed, quick and mocking. "Yeah, fuck you," he said.

"I'm serious," Zuko said.

"What makes you think I'm gonna' do some stupid firebender dance?" Jet asked.

"Well, do you wanna' learn the secret to firebending or not?" Zuko asked.

Jet sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. This was so fucking stupid. How did he end up here?

"I can't believe this," Jet murmured, closing his eyes.

Zuko waited not so patiently for him to come to a conclusion.

"Well?" he asked.

"Okay," Jet relented. "But don't you fucking look at me," he ordered, pointing his finger at Zuko. "And don't you fucking tell _anyone_ about this."

"Fine, I won't," Zuko said back. "Don't look at me either."

"Fine," Jet spat. "Just so you know, I fucking hate this."

"I _know_ you do," Zuko spat back. "Get over it."

Jet grumbled to himself as he went to stand in front of the first statue, a look of absolute disgust on his face. He looked over his shoulder to Zuko and clamped his teeth down on his grass.

"Ready?" Zuko asked.

"Just fucking do it," Jet spat back. "And do it right the first time," he added.

So, they did the thing. And Jet hated every fucking second of it. Especially the dumb little part at the end where they had to put their fists together.

He immediately threw his hands down and turned to Zuko.

"See? It didn't even fucking do anything," he spat.

As if on cue, a podium raised from the middle of the room. Zuko turned to him and smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jet said. "Don't rub it in."

Zuko eyed the egg on the podium, then eyed Jet.

"I know what you're thinking Zuko," Jet said. "Don't fucking touch it."

"Why not?" Zuko questioned.

"I swear to the spirits," Jet murmured. "Do _not_ fucking touch it."

"Well, it _has_ to be there for a reason!" Zuko defended.

"Yeah, just like the spikes outside were 'there for a reason'," Jet mocked. "Zuko, I promise. I will tackle you if you go to touch that egg."

Zuko blinked his eyes at him for a moment, then slid his feet a little bit.

 _He's gonna' make me fucking do it._ Jet thought with a sigh.

Next thing he knew, he was throwing his shoulder into Zuko's side as he ran for it. It knocked the breath clean out of Zuko's chest, and he fell to a knee to gasp for air. Jet slammed him down to the stone and clambered on top of him, pinning Zuko's hands above his head, straddling him.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Jet asked, shoving Zuko's wrists back down. "Did you think I was joking?"

Zuko struggled for a moment, but Jet's grip was tight. "Get off me!"

"No," Jet answered. "Not until you stop being dumb."

Zuko quit most of his writhing, his breath coming to him in frustrated huffs. "At least I made something happen!" he spat.

"Yeah," Jet agreed. "But maybe – it's time to _stop_ making things happen, yeah?"

Zuko flexed his hands, and Jet tried not to notice his muscles moving under his hand. Zuko glared at him, his golden eyes piercing, his feeble attempts at release doing him no good.

"Get off me," he said, lower now.

"Are you done?" Jet asked.

"Get off me," he reiterated. " _Now_."

The way Zuko looked at him now was different than anything he'd seen, and it took Jet a moment to figure out what it was. Zuko's face was slightly red, but Jet had assumed that was from being tackled. His throat bobbed up and down with a hard swallow, and that is the moment Jet realized exactly what had happened. His mouth went dry, and a flush ran up his cheeks. He made Zuko _hard_. And now that he noticed it, he couldn't stop. It was pretty difficult not to pressing against his thigh.

So much for performance issues.

Any other situation and this kind of thing would have made him grin. Made him look down the lengths of their bodies to study it. Made him jerk his hips forwards to test it. But this was Zuko. The prince of the fire nation. A barrier that was slowly and slowly starting not to matter, and it made him _nervous,_ yes him of all people _nervous_ , to think that. He knew he had a thing for him physically, but the sudden realization of who he was, more so how it didn't disgust him as much as he wanted it to, was jarring. He didn't think it would ever go away, and let alone be reciprocated in some way. And the reciprocation was tangible; a line of stiffness under thin pants.

He released Zuko's wrists a little too quickly, lifting himself on his knees before standing. He looked off at the statues, waiting for Zuko to pick himself off the ground, chewing his grass to distract him from the twitch that had settled between his own legs. Zuko held his ribs for a moment, still trying return the air to his lungs and will the blood from his cheeks. Among other things.

"Is your side okay?" Jet asked over his shoulder, less steady than he would have liked.

"Yeah," Zuko answered. "Probably bruised."

"Sorry," Jet said plainly. "Don't touch the egg," he added, just to make sure.

"I won't," Zuko said and lifted himself to his feet.

"We're gonna' look for something else," Jet said, more of an order than anything. _Some type_ of control over the situation was needed.

The something else they stumbled upon was a large circular courtyard with a very impressive set off stairs. The stairs led to a long platform of sorts, the sun high and centered behind it.

"This looks promising," Jet said, mostly to himself.

Zuko was off doing other things, probably trying to avoid eye contact Jet assumed. He looked over his shoulder to him, and he was circling the courtyard, reading the worn inscriptions on the stone below him.

"Anything good?" Jet asked.

Zuko raised a finger of silence to him, and Jet tried not to take offense to it. He circled the courtyard one more time, his brow creased in concentration as he read it over once more.

"It says the masters, Ran and Shaw, live up here," he said with a point up the stairs. "They'll read our hearts, souls, and ancestry. And if they deem us worthy, they'll teach us. If they don't, we'll be destroyed on the spot."

"Okay, so let's go," Jet said.

Zuko looked at him for a moment, not really expecting that quick of an answer.

"You sure?" he asked, a little surprised.

"You're the Fire Prince and I'm me. I don't think we should worry about it. We can take 'em if we have to," Jet answered confidently with a pat to his swords.

Zuko smiled a cocky grin himself. "Alright," he said.

Halfway up the stairs, Jet turned to Zuko with an amused smile. "Is everything in the Fire Nation this theatrical? They really needed this many stairs?"

"Do you take _anything_ seriously?" Zuko asked.

"Not really," Jet answered. "Except for maybe komodo chicken. I'm very picky."

Zuko gave him the look, but Jet didn't seem to notice. 

Once at the top, the two looked down the opposite platforms, seeing nothing but stone and a cave at each end.

"Sure someone lives up here?" Jet asked.

"According to the stone, yeah," Zuko answered, but not confidently.

The two kicked the ground for a few moments, not really knowing what to do with themselves. "Maybe we should just go," Jet said finally.

Then suddenly, the earth rumbled under their feet, birds went scattering from the mountain as dust cascaded down the cave entrances. Jet and Zuko both looked to each other, a growing concern on both their faces.

"What's – what's happening?" Jet asked, the sudden fear evident in his tone.

"I – don't know," Zuko answered honestly.

The two instinctively went shoulder to shoulder for defense, both peering to their respective caves. Then, there was a long, eerie silence. They looked over their shoulders to each other, before the earth shuddered under them again.

Jet whipped his head back around to the cave. Two enormous, monstrous golden eyes pierced through him from the darkness. His mouth went dry, and for one of few times in his life, he was scared to death.

He didn't have time to register the fear before the creature called, a screech amongst the heavens as if whipped at lightning speed from the den. He fell backwards into Zuko, who scrambled with his footing, eyeing the creature as it tore through the air. Without another thought, or time to register the first one, a second creature ripped itself from the other den.

They circled the two, seemingly mindlessly, circling and circling through the sky. Long enough for Jet to actually tell what was going on. He swallowed the lump in his throat and backed shoulder to shoulder to Zuko once more. "Zuko, there's fucking dragons," he said.

"The masters," Zuko breathed, not calmly but not afraid.

Jet's hand shook with panic. "Zuko, I don't wanna' die. I – I – I gotta' get back to Tikka."

Zuko's brow lowered at that, suddenly realizing how much of a terrifying experience this must be for Jet. To admit he didn't want to die.

Zuko reached a hand backwards and laced his fingers with Jet's trembling ones. "Calm down, okay? We're gonna' figure this out. They haven't attacked yet."

"Zuko," Jet started, then swallowed. "I've never admitted this to anyone, but I'm scared of fire bending," Jet said quickly. "And and and now I'm surrounded by dragons."

Zuko pressed his eyes shut at that, never having felt more helpless in his life. He tried to think. Think. Think. Think. Jet's trembling hand as his motivator.

"We have to do the dragon dance," he said suddenly.

"What?" Jet breathed.

"The dance! Do you remember?"

Jet nodded, not very confidently.

"You have to," Zuko said firmly. "You gotta' get home to Tikka, okay?"

Jet's brows furrowed and he nodded again, tearing himself away from Zuko's shoulders. They stood the opposite, just like before, and he forced himself to go through the motions.

He lifted and shaky arm and leg, and the dragon shot upwards towards the sky right in front of him. Like it was choreographed with him. He laughed a quick, adrenaline fueled laugh at it. He was controlling a _dragon_.

When he punched the air, the dragon shot forwards and snapped. When he swung his arms down, the dragon curved with him. When he lowered his leg and skirted it across the stone, the dragon lowered with him. Until finally, his fists were against Zuko's, but he didn't dare move yet. Zuko looked to him, then nodded, and they stood shoulder to shoulder once more.

The dragons took pause, flanked on each side, their immeasurable wings sending wafts of wind to ruffle their hair. Their eyes were emotionless, their stare unbreakable. Their teeth stacked as their snout wrinkled to release them. They planted on either side of the pillar which shook under their combined weights, still snarling a foreign guttural noise from their monstrous throats. Then, they opened their ladder of mouth towards the sky.

And opened fire.

Jet didn't even have time to register it; the fire swallowed him whole in an instant.

_And he was left in darkness._

_And nothingness._

_And emptiness._

_Then fire behind him amongst the dark._

_A scene from his memories. One he tried not to remember._

_His village in flames._

_A fire nation soldier staring at him as Jet ran as fast as he could away from him._

_But he didn't run_ this _time._

_His legs strut for him underneath him. Towards it. Almost touching it._

_Then it was gone, a flittering ghost amongst the void._

_Then ashes under his feet, his boots leaving scuffs in it, swallowing him. It caked in his throat and burnt his eyes. Ashes raining from the sky. Charred wood of the skeletons of buildings and a still feeling of after battle that was haunting._

_He walked. Nothing for what felt like miles of ashes and darkness. Ashes. More ashes._

_Then a single sprig amongst it. Creeping up through the gray. Green and purple and beautiful and alive amongst so much death._

_And it rooted. Growing and rooting and growing and rooting. Absorbing and consuming the ash along the way. Spreading and springing leaves and grass and flowers left and right. The forest regained and the deer ran and the birds flew and the water flowed and the snow fell and the earth repaired and carried the ash away._

_Then it was gone._

_Nothingness regained._

_Then the warmth of the sun on his skin. Not a sight. Not a scene. A familiar feeling for what felt like ages._

_Of warmth._

_And gone._

_Every neuron fired in his brain, electricity running through his veins. Every nerve in his body alight with movement and tension and power and life and light._

_Then stillness._

_Of a campfire crackling by its lonesome, its creator nearby for its warmth in the night._

_A pot was simmering on the flames. The water boiled for cleanliness._

_The meal cooked to perfection. An age-old flavor of food prepared over oak._

_And a smile. On the creator's face._

_His face._

_Then his consciousness regained._

And he stood in front of the dragon, his legs wavering, the dragon's ladder of mouth closing off the smoke that had just bellowed from it.

Jet fell to his knees, the air knocked from his lungs. Awing the gentle beast, his mouth agape. Humbled like no other. Words escaped him, as well as his tears. They ran down the edges of his eyes without his say so. He didn't wipe them away. Didn't fight them. They flowed down his cheeks one after the other as the dragon whipped itself back into its den, leaving him in the wake of stillness after. He pressed his eyes shut, and for once. Once in his life.

He felt relieved.

And still.

And calm.

All at once.

So earth shatteringly so that his breath came to him in shudders. He kept his eyes closed. The feeling of calm was so foreign to him that it was frightening, but he didn't push it away. He held to it tight.

It was the last straw of anger he was clinging to, the last hint of resentment, the last wavering, faltering excuse finally ripped out of him. By no other than the dragons. The original _fire_ benders. It felt strange. Too strange. To not feel angry. To finally cry. To finally see the truth. To finally let it _go_. The tears were still wet on his cheeks as he unballed his fists and let his palms brush the stone underneath him. He inhaled deep, held it, and let it out.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, and he didn't turn to address it. Just let it sit there for a moment. "Jet?" He didn't respond. Couldn't respond. What was he to say? He tried to speak, but nothing would come out. He couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't let this feeling go. Not yet.

Zuko went to his knees in front of him, shaking his shoulders gently. "Jet, say something."

Jet fell to his heals and finally opened his eyes, blurry and burning from the salt of his tears and looked at Zuko. Really looked at him for what he was. Not what he wished he wasn't. Fire Nation. Fire Bender. A Prince. But none of it mattered. He wasn't those things alone.

He was the man who, without thinking, offered Tikka help even though Jet had despised him. He was the man who, without thinking, gave him a map to get through the wilderness. Without thinking, carried him across the ocean to the air nomad island. And the man who saved his life from the Dai Li all that time ago, though Jet wasn't sure if he had to think that one over, but he'd like to assume he didn't.

He was the man who fumbled his words, trying to practice what he'd say. The one who blushed at being caught. The man who didn't put up with his shit. Grounded him. Taught him. To be patient. And more open. The man who'd put his life on the line to save the group. The man who felt so visibly guilty for what he'd done that it made his heart shatter. The one who saved him from dragons.

He was Zuko. He was Li. He was a million different men.

And Jet liked every single one of them.

He snatched him forwards and pressed his lips to his.

There was a brief moment of shock. Jet could feel the tension of Zuko's body, but after a moment it released. And he parted his lips and it was clumsy even for him. But he didn't care. Then they were kissing and kissing and kissing and Zuko's hands gripped the fabric on his shoulders and Jet's hand wrapped up around his waist tight. The birds flew out over the horizon and sun was warm on the stone and on their skin. The ocean sloshed waves against the shore as Zuko's tongue entered his mouth.

He melted into him before he had a chance to even realize it. His heart thrummed against his chest; a deep ache finally being quelled. He'd never believed in the heavens, seemed too far out of reach for him. But this was close enough. He never wanted it to stop. He pushed past the fear that he never _could_ stop. He didn't want to. Zuko would be the death of him and he didn't even mind it. As long as he could feel _this_ for the rest of his life.

When they parted, heavy and panting, lips swollen and reddened, the wake of stillness after was nothing but enchanting. Zuko's face was flushed, his hands still knotted, knuckle white, in Jet's tunic. And Jet thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Jet smiled, meaningfully and truthfully, not an act of any sorts.

"Hey," he said.

Zuko's lips lifted in a shy smile too. "Hey," he repeated.

Jet chuckled a little, the absurdity finally catching up with him. "We should probably go," he said, then looked over his shoulder, albeit reluctantly. "Before the dragons come back out."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love.”  
> ― Lao-Tzu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me on another site, but yes Jet's cat deer is the same animal Avatar Wan rode. In case you were wondering.

Zuko was still, somehow, surprised at how quickly Jet could transform from one person to another. Not in a bad way – not anymore, at least. But somehow, he could go from crying, to kissing, to back to same old casual Jet, to _asleep_ all within roughly twenty minutes _. Seamlessly_. Zuko wondered if it was something he tried to do. If there was some sort of effort put into it.

Jet had fallen asleep almost as soon as they made it on the balloon, curled up at the bottom, his cheek tucked on his shoulder. Zuko supposed he couldn't blame him. It had been a rollercoaster of a day, especially for him.

Zuko reached up and touched his lips somewhat mindlessly as he gave a quick, now effortless burst of fire to the burner; still in a bit of disbelief. It all seemed so spur of the moment. Then they were walking back to the balloon, and it was all over. It was the last bit of energy he had in him, Zuko supposed. Jet looked like he hadn't slept in days on the walk back, and Zuko wasn't about to pester him with questions at the time. He needed rest, to sleep this crazy, adrenaline fueled day off.

The kiss had been … unexpected, but it hadn't been bad. Sloppy and tearstained, but not _bad_. Not _disgusting_. He actually thoroughly enjoyed much more than he ever thought he would. He didn't know why he'd expected a kiss from a man to feel any different than a womans. Like men's lips were made of concrete or something. He'd never given it much thought before now. Never seemed important. But now it was all he could think about.

So, what did that make him?

What did that make Jet?

Was this kind of thing… even allowed?

Of course, it was allowed; he knew that. It wasn't some big secret that people did these kinds of things. Not even all that uncommonly, especially in the military and on womanless battle ships. But never seemed to be allowed for _him._ Royal _girls_ were allowed for him. Palace, prim and proper girls were allowed for him. Mai was allowed for him. But he'd always been one to go outside the bounds of what was allowed, especially if the bound was asinine. And he was a traitor anyway now. None of it mattered.

And Mai. What would she take of all of this? She probably never wanted him back anyway. After the stunt he pulled with the letter. Not that the whole thing wasn't still a little sore to the touch.

But his biggest fear, which surprised him like no other, was whether it was something Jet had _meant_ to do. It had been so emotion driven. So quick. Had he just been the end of the tidal wave? Like the popping open of a bottle of champagne in the wake of the moment?

He supposed he'd have to wait for an answer, if he ever had the nerve to even ask.

But right now, he just needed to guide the balloon; A small smile curling his lips the whole way.

* * *

He didn't have to wait long. If there's one thing about Jet, it was that he was either in or out. And he was definitely in. Like the kiss had opened a floodgate.

Jet woke from his nap in a bit of a daze, but quickly snapped himself out as the two touched down on temple grounds. Before the canvas of the balloon had even halfway deflated, his mouth had found Zuko's again. And Zuko let it without much protest. Did he even want to protest? Not very much, it seemed.

There was an actual technique Jet had. No scrape of teeth or awkward chin bumps this time. And he was all but swimming in it. But only for a moment. Seemed much longer than it actually was. Probably only a few seconds in hindsight.

Then Jet pulled away and grinned his usual. "Sorry," he said, his breath still close enough to tickle. "Had to get a quick one before I go get the kid." And then he turned on his heals and sauntered away, leaving Zuko opened mouthed and wordless. Like that was just something people did. Just kiss someone once and just keep doing it. No questions asked. Definitely not the proper way to court, but Jet wasn't proper with anything, so was it a surprise? And it was sort of comforting, in its own weird way. Like it wasn't a big deal. Like it wasn't something he had to worry about. The causality of it overtaking the strangeness.

He picked his jaw up and unfurrowed his brow and dealt with the rest of the balloon. He didn't see Jet for the rest of the night.

* * *

He showed Aang the ancient form the next day, and tried to explain the best he could the ultimate secret to fire bending. Aang seemed to pick up quickly. He was a bubbly kid anyway. No surprise he'd relish in the new way to firebend. Jet was off doing who knows what, and Zuko tried to focus on training alone.

He was sweaty and not very enticing by noon time. A break was needed for the both of them. He rinsed the sheen from his hair from a water bucket nearby, the coolish water feeling icy combined with the air.

It was almost spring now, he noticed. How time flies. The snow had seemed to fade to random patches as the air warmed, and it hadn't fallen since Jet found him in the cave. The comet at the end of the summer was getting closer and closer. But he tried not to dwell on it. Right now, he just needed to train. Just focus on training.

Aang had wandered, probably to go show Katara something; like he was always doing. And Zuko took a much-needed breather on the steps of the stone courtyard where they'd been practicing.

"You're gonna' catcha' cold like that," Jet's voice called from behind.

Zuko turned to face him, water dripping from his hair, and Jet was sauntering, always _sauntering,_ towards him; Tikka hanging from his hip like a potato sack. She had a little water tribe coat on, and Jet had his long flowy one back too. Where did he even get these things? Did he steal them?

Zuko didn't say anything as he sat next to him. He feared anything he would say would rush the blood to his cheeks.

"I wanted to show you something," Jet said, answering the question he'd been thinking. Then he planted Tikka in between them, who was burbling baby noises. Zuko looked down to her, then back to Jet, who was looking at nothing in the distance.

_I swear to the spirits Zuko, you fucking touch her and I'll cut your fucking head off._

He hadn't forgotten. That kind of thing was hard to forget.

"Uh, hello," he said to her with a little wave, then curled his hands back in his lap. She looked at him and smiled a little smile. He'd never seen her up this close. She really was a cute kid. But he – he wasn't quite sure what he was allowed to say even. Was – was this Jet's way of introduction?

She squeezed her little sock octopus, another odd item Zuko wondered about, and leaned against Jet, who finally tore his eyes from whatever he'd been looking at. He looked down to her and smiled the most tender of smiles, and it was incredibly heartwarming. He'd never seen Jet smile like that. It was a little sad for Zuko, a pang of what could have been. But what was is what was. Didn't mean other people couldn't have what he didn't.

"Don't ever touch her octopus," Jet said casually, lifting his eyes to meet Zuko's for just a moment. "She gets very upset."

Zuko smiled a little. "Good to know."

Jet paused for a minute. "You – you can hold her, if you want," he said, not reluctantly, but sheepishly. Like he felt bad for what he said before.

"Are you sure?" Zuko asked, mostly out of reflex.

Jet chuckled a little. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

And Zuko supposed that was the best answer he was going to get. He wasn't very good with children. He never felt like he was fun enough for them. Like he was a bore to them. Much too serious for their whims. And she was so small and fragile. What if he dropped her on her head or something? The thought was terrifying. But he felt honored; that Jet trusted him enough to offer it in the first place. Tikka was the thing Jet held dearest to him, and Zuko wasn't quite sure he was ready for the responsibility of holding her.

"Are you one of those people that's scared of babies?" Jet asked with a smirk.

"No," Zuko lied.

Jet chuckled again. "You are such a bad liar."

"I'm not I just- we can hang out from right here. Is that okay with you?" Zuko asked humorously.

Jet looked to him, amused, then lifted a piece of grass to his lips (where did he even get it?). "I suppose."

Then Aang came back from break.

* * *

Zuko was sure Jet was stalking him again, but at least this time there was something in it for him. At least it was the fun kind of stalking, not the _stalk you to find evidence you're a firebender so I can turn you into the police_ kind of stalk.

Jet would find him somehow, always when no one was around (seemed to be an unspoken agreement), and pin him to a wall, kiss him for just a _moment_ (never for long enough for him to do anything about it, that is), then leave with a grin. Leaving him blushed and undid in the middle of the hallway or behind a tree or in the courtyard during a break. How one person could always be such a pesterer, Zuko couldn't understand.

And somehow, he never tasted of grass, despite him always having it. What did he do? Handpick the world's only tasteless pieces of grass? He didn't make any sense. Did he carry it in his pocket? Where is he getting this grass? An unsolved mystery.

He must have snuck a flower in his pocket too.

"Uh, Sifu Hotman, there's a dandelion in your hair," Aang noted on, what was it, the third day of this? And why did nobody here call him by his name? Sparky? Sifu Hotman? Worst of all, Pretty Boy? Though Katara never called him anything, so that was nice.

Zuko tried not to blush and removed it. Of course, Jet would sneak a flower into his hair. That's a very Jet thing to do. Infuriating, but somehow a little sweet, at least in terms of Jet. And he supposed it was better than prodding him at every moment like before.

"I was laying in the grass," he excused. He wondered if Aang was smart enough to know better, but how could he? Seemed a reasonable excuse enough. As long as he didn't make the connection between grass and Jet, he should be fine.

Jet seemed to be riding some sort of wave of light heartedness that was a little foreign to Zuko. Or maybe he was just like this with everyone else anyway, and never wanted to show _him_ this side of him before. But he couldn't say it wasn't a little nice, to not be prodded and poked at every waking moment. But more so, he was happy for Jet. It seemed the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps it had been.

But still, he was confused. Why did Jet want to keep kissing him, of all people? Surely, he had other options. He wasn't a bad looking guy, and he had nice shoulders. Spirits, what was he doing? Thinking about Jet's nice looking shoulders. And his warm smile. And his lips that were too soft…

Just focus on training, he told himself. Stop thinking about it.

But failing at something had never been so easy before.

He found himself waiting for breaks in training. Anticipating with a little bit too much excitement, looking over his shoulder, playing this game along with Jet. Perhaps he could find Jet and sneak kisses to him as well. No, that would seem much too eager. And eager he was not. At least, that's what he told himself.

Around the fourth day, he had figured out Jet's schedule and timed his breaks accordingly. At noon, Tikka went down for a nap, leaving Jet to wander or do whatever it is that he does when he's not sneaking kisses to him. He told Aang to take an extra half hour today, for reasons he didn't explain. Aang was happy enough with it, taking off to play some sort of game with the boy in the wheelchair (Teo? Maybe).

As expected, Jet popped in under the rolled door to his room. The sunlight coming in through the window left a line of warmth alone the stone wall, and that is the place Jet decided to pin him this time, snaking his way onto Zuko's lips. Tired of his antics, tired of his teasing, tired of his ten second jests; Zuko clamped fat fistfuls of the fabric of his hips, just above the cold metal armor, holding him there.

Jet couldn't hide the grin amongst his cocky, moving mouth. He spoke, just breaking away from Zuko long enough for the words to leave his lips. "You like it that much," he breathed, not a question. It was trying because it was true. Jet could do whatever he wanted to him, it seemed, no matter how alarming or exciting the thought was.

"You're annoying," Zuko replied, then a long silence of mind-numbing nipping, the sounds embarrassingly loud amongst the echoing stone walls. Jet's hands caressed his face, his right thumb a little lower on Zuko's cheek than the left. His hands were large, much larger than Mai's, and seemed to swallow him, but it wasn't unpleasant. And Jet smelled of leather and something earthy and herby, maybe rosemary. It didn't matter. Whatever it was, he couldn't get enough.

Jet broke away again, and Zuko craned his neck to hold his lips as long as possible, much to the enjoyment of Jet. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, his lips teasingly close still.

"I took a long break today," Zuko replied plainly, glaring at his stupid lips, wanting to shut them up. But they were just out of reach.

"Wanted to see me?" Jet asked, a redundant question, his eyes littered with amusement.

"Shut up," Zuko replied, so Jet did, using his technique of mouth open and tongue in. Another mind numbing, wet sounding silence, and Jet drew away again. Zuko groaned at the loss.

"I'm sparring with Sokka later," he half whispered, trying to sound steady, composed. "You should come."

"We have to talk about this now?" Zuko asked, exhausted of his antics.

"There a better time?" Jet teased, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Fine," Zuko groaned. "I'll come."

Jet's brow perked suggestively at that, and Zuko rolled his eyes. How remedial.

Jet planted one more quick kiss to his lips and unknotted Zuko's hands from his waist. "I'll see you later?" he asked.

"Where are you going?" Zuko asked before he had the chance to think.

"Gonna' train with Toph. Why? Miss me already?"

"Toph?" Zuko questioned.

"Yeah, she's gonna' shoot rocks at me," Jet answered.

Zuko's eyebrow quirked. Now this he had to see.

* * *

Toph and Jet stood the opposite the stone courtyard, a cocky smirk pulling both their lips. The rest of the gang sat off to the sidelines. Aang sat next to Katara, who was holding Tikka, who sat next to Sokka, then Zuko at the end. Toph had a pile of pressed together sand disks, (great for sparring, dispersing on impact thus blunting the blow), and one would think it was a wrestling match with how much smugness was in the air.

"Sure you wanna' do this, lover boy?" Toph called.

"Ooh, lover boy?" Jet questioned. "I like that."

Toph's smirk grew a little wider. "These disks still hurt, you know."

"I know," Jet answered, twirling his swords like batons in his hands. "Try not to hurt me too bad. It's been a while."

Toph laughed, quick and mocking. "You think since you suck, I'm gonna' go easy on you?"

Jet smirked. "Nah. Bring it on." He lifted his hand and beckoned his fingers around his sword.

"Alright," Toph said.

She kicked a disk up and punched it, sending it hurtling towards him, bullet quick. He leaned his shoulder back, a fluid, effortless roll, shifting his foot back and sending the projectile behind him. _Torso shots._ He thought, his swords still at his sides. He smirked once more. "That it?"

She laughed in response, kicking two this time, one after the other. The first was lower, towards his feet, he jumped in response. The second was torso again, and he had to lean his shoulder mid air to avoid it. His feet planted, and his heartbeat quickened. That was a little harder, but not undoable.

He crossed his swords in front of him. This wasn't even a warm up for her. She was about to ramp it up, and he knew it. "Come on, give me some target practice," he called.

And she obliged, hurtling an uncountable number of disks with swift movements of her hands, slicing through the air, one after another. He cut through them, concentrating, seeing each one for what it was, and sending the halves off centered and to the side of him. He got all but one, the one close to the last, and it clipped his shoulder armor leaving a scuff of sand on the metal.

 _He's quicker than I remember._ Zuko thought, his eyes trained on Jet's qualified movements.

"Not bad, lover boy," Toph taunted. "You're staying pretty far away though. Whassa' matter? Scared?"

"I didn't know that's how you wanted to play it," Jet said. "But alright. First one to get tripped up loses. And no moving the earth under my feet. That's cheating. Only disks and swords."

"You're on," Toph challenged.

_He's gonna' try to trip her up? Good luck with that._

Jet was on his heals in an instant, launching his body forwards, his swords lowered at his sides. Toph sent and expert amount of projectiles his way, but he dodged seamlessly. To the left, to the right. Duck and jump and keep running. He had to cut a couple the closer he got, no longer able to dodge, sending the fragments of sand bursting into the air.

He jumped the last distance, a good few feet, and for a moment Toph couldn't see. She waited, anticipating. The unsharpened inner circle of Jet's hook barely brazed her ankle, about to catch it to send it upwards to off balance her.

Zuko's eyes widened. _Shit, he's actually gonna' do it._

But it didn't have the chance. She heaved a disk to his side, knocking the breath clean out of him on impact. He doubled back, gasping.

"Almost got me," she said with a smirk. "That was pretty smart. Jumping the distance."

He couldn't respond just yet, holding the spot on his side that was surely going to be thoroughly bruised. He held a finger of patience up, and she laughed.

"You good?" she asked.

He nodded, a little doubled over. "I don't want to play anymore. You win," he said, gasping out a chuckle. "Good game."

"Told you they hurt," she rubbed in.

"Shit yeah, they do," he admitted, hand still cupped over his side and his sword. He gingerly brushed the splattered sand off of himself. He was going to feel that later.

And when later that night came, he definitely did. He didn't think a rib was broken, but damn if it wasn't close. His whole side ached, and he even had to cancel sparring with Sokka. When did he get so old? One hit and out wasn't him. He hadn't fought in a while. That was most likely it.

He poked at the large bruise, tunic off and sat on his bed, examining it under the lantern light. It was pretty gnarly, but he supposed he'd done it to himself. Tikka was asleep already, curled up in the makeshift bed he'd made for her the opposite of the small room. Couldn't have her rolling off the raised mattress.

Someone kicked the bottom of the rolled door, and his head shot up from his injury. "Yeah?"

"It's me," Zuko said from outside, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.

"Well, come in," Jet said expectantly, a little perplexed.

"My hands are full. Roll back the door," Zuko said.

Jet grimaced and stood, grumbling to himself about Zuko making him get up. He shifted back the door, and Zuko _did_ have his hands full; Two cups of steaming tea in one hand and two bowls balanced on the other arm and two pillows tucked under his armpits.

"You brought me dinner?" Jet questioned, holding the door with one hand and his side with the other.

"Don't think too much about it," Zuko responded.

"Okay," Jet said, still perplexed, and stepped aside, allowing Zuko to dip under the door.

Zuko dropped the pillows out from under his arms, slipping a bowl and a cup to Jet a moment later. Jet watched as he set himself up, stiff and straight in the lotus position on his pillow on the floor. Zuko gestured with his chopsticks for Jet to do the same, and Jet snapped himself out of his confusion and did.

"How's your side?" Zuko questioned, peering to his bowl as he tapped his rice around.

"It'll be okay," Jet answered, still shifting himself into a comfortable position across from Zuko.

"You're an idiot," Zuko noted.

Jet smiled a little. "Sometimes, yeah."

Zuko peered over his shoulder to the sleeping Tikka, curled up on the fur coat bed Jet had made for her. Then he peered over to Jet's bed, which was practically bare besides a small, scratchy throw blanket.

"You don't get cold in here? It's all stone," Zuko questioned, his brow perked.

"Yeah, but Tikka needs the fur more than me," Jet answered honestly, picking pieces of vegetables to pop into his mouth.

"Why not let her sleep with you?" Zuko questioned.

"She can roll off the bed, and I don't want to squish her," Jet said. "These air temple beds are tiny, but if she falls off, she'll get hurt."

Zuko thought that over for a moment, chewing his food and sipping his tea.

He sat his cup down and looked to Jet. "Do you want another blanket?" he asked, exhausted of Jet's pride already.

Jet looked to him and shrugged. "I'm not gonna' ask for it."

Zuko sighed and stood, leaving the room with his cup still on the floor. Jet didn't try to stop him. Too sore to do much of anything, really. Zuko returned a moment later and tossed a bundle of red blanket onto Jet's bed.

"What about you?" Jet asked as Zuko settled back onto his pillow.

"Firebender, remember," Zuko answered.

Jet rolled his eyes. "Idiot. Just sleep in here," he suggested. "Everyone wins."

Zuko perked his brow at him and mulled it over.

"And no, you don't get to cuddle me," Jet added casually.

Zuko smiled a little. "Who said I wanted to?"

Jet smiled too, stacking his bowl and cup off by the door to gather in the morning. He heaved himself to his feet, grimacing at his sore side. He slid into the bed and rolled his back to Zuko, pulling the blanket over himself. He pointed to his feet.

"You get that end," he ordered. "Wall side."

"Why do I get wall side?" Zuko questioned.

"Cause you're smaller than me," Jet answered.

"By like an inch," Zuko noted.

"Every inch counts, Zuko," Jet said with a smirk.

Zuko rolled his eyes, even though he sort of set himself up for that one. He threw the pillow he was sitting on at the back of Jet's head. Jet looked over his shoulder and gave him the look, but put the pillow under his head anyway. Zuko gathered the other pillow and had to, of course, climb over Jet to get to the wall side. Jet gave him a self-satisfied grin, which Zuko ignored.

"Just don't molest me in my sleep," Jet noted, closing his eyes and rubbing his face on the pillow, which smelled peppery just like Zuko. Surprisingly comforting.

"Here I was worried about you," Zuko retorted, shoving his pillow into the crack against the wall to lean against. His legs barely rubbed against Jet's rarely unarmored ones under the blanket, and he tried to ignore the sensation.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Jet said.

Zuko gave him the look, but Jet's eyes were already closed. He propped himself in the corner, crossed his arms in front of him, and tried to sleep too.

* * *

Jet awoke to Tikka crying for him, like every other morning. She had a better internal clock than him most days. He sat up quickly, forgetting his bruise, and inhaled a sharp breath.

Zuko at some point in the night had slid down from his opposite corner and was sleeping like a normal person on the bed. Jet smiled a little despite his pain, and forced himself to get up from the warmth of the blankets.

He scooped Tikka into his arms and did their morning routine, and he wasn't even sure if the sun was all the way up yet. It must be barely peaking over the horizon, the line of light coming in through the window still muted and soft. Zuko was fast asleep still, to his surprise. Most days he heard him waking up early, around the same time as Tikka did.

There was some early morning commotion in the hallway. A rolling sound and the shuffle of feet. Jet's ears perked at it, but if it didn't involve him, he didn't worry about it.

Then someone knocked on the stone outside his room. His brows furrowed, and he picked Tikka up and went to answer it. Outside stood Haru, Teo, and much to his surprise - The Duke.

"Uh, hey," he said. "What's up?"

Teo smiled, warm and genuine. "The Duke wanted to ask you something," he said kindly. Jet looked down to The Duke, who looked sheepish under his helmet, and Jet swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat.

"I – I wanted to know if Tikka could play with us," The Duke said innocently.

Jet's brow perked. That wasn't what he was expecting, but he'd take it. Better than The Duke not talking to him at all.

"Supervised," Haru added from behind the others.

Jet had a moment of hesitation, never really haven let Tikka do this kind of thing before.

 _You know, in the water tribe, it's pretty common for kids to be taken care of collectively. Sure, there's the parents. But we all play a part. It takes a village._ Tiguaak's voice reigned in his head.

He sighed, not really intentionally. He supposed he had to detach her from his hip at some point. Perhaps some time around other kids would be good too.

"We can take her down the hill on my wheelchair. She'll have fun. Not the steep hill, of course," Teo said kindly.

Jet smiled a little. "Okay," he relented. "Just be careful."

"We will," The Duke answered and gave him a shy smile. Jet smiled, a little sadly, and kneeled to meet his eyes.

"You know," Jet started as he handed Tikka off to Teo, who smiled as he put her in his lap. "You're not the youngest anymore. You ready for that?"

"Mhm," The Duke answered. "Being the youngest stinks."

Jet chuckled a little. "But it means you have to take care of the littler ones too. Protect them. Think you can do it?'

"Yeah," The Duke answered confidently with a pat to his wooden staff. Jet smiled. Perhaps he had rubbed off more than he'd thought.

"I'm trusting you. It's a big responsibility," Jet said.

The Duke gave him a real smile this time. "I won't let you down," he said.

Jet smiled too. "Okay, go have fun. Be careful."

"We _will_!" The Duke reiterated.

Jet chuckled and nodded to Haru, who nodded in understanding back. He seemed responsible enough. Him and Teo combined could handle it. Jet was caring for children when he was younger than them. These kids got this. Besides, his side could use the break from carrying Tikka around.

"Just bring her back if she starts acting up," Jet added as they began to walk away.

"You got it," Teo said, but at that point he was much too enthralled with Tikka to really hear him.

Jet smiled and ducked back under the rolled door to his room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Our enemies are not demons, but human beings like ourselves.” - Lao Tzu

Military deserters were an interesting bunch, both earth and fire alike. Some were squeamish, couldn't handle the ins and outs of war. Some were broken and scared, didn't know what else to do. And some were pure cowards, having ran from their posts when shit got to it. But they all had one thing in common. They wanted the war to end. And agreed the military wasn't getting it done. The band of misfits was moving through the wilderness, drawing closer and closer to the capital of the Fire nation. They had one mission at hand. Kill the Fire Lord; By any means possible.

"They didn't tell us," a nameless man said to Smellerbee, one hand curled in his lap and the other always pointedly at his sword, much like her. He was fire nation infantry, and he had, what she assumed, permanent bandages wrapped over his face and hands, hiding the scars from his tale. His voice was hardened, stiff, like the story was just another story. "About the firebenders overhead. They sacrificed the whole division. We – _I_ barely made it out. I sat burned to a crisp in a field for two days before an Earth Kingdom family helped me. I never went back. I've been hiding here."

"What's your name?" Smellerbee asked.

"Aki," he answered.

"Let me see your scars," Smellerbee said pointedly, an order more than anything else. Longshot watched in silence from beside her, the camp fire flickering light onto the glittery black sand of fire nation beaches.

The man lifted a shakey hand and unclipped the heavy red armor from his shoulders. With a shudder of breath, he unraveled the bandages and revealed a torso of raised bumpy scars, missing muscle tissue and a hand with fingers torched down to nubs. He, however, did not reveal his face. But his eyes were soft, heartbreakingly young, and honest below the white linen.

"You can't fight," Smellerbee noted, looking over his vast injuries.

"No," he agreed. "But I can think. And I can plan. I was stationed in the Fire Lord's palace before. Guess they wanted to show us the good life for a while before sending us to slaughter, but I'm the closest that infantry has been to him. I know more than the others."

"You have to take care of yourself," Smellerbee said, not unkindly. "No one here will do it for you."

"I can," he said, raising his left hand that was somehow unmarred.

Smellerbee looked to Longshot, who nodded curtly. "Okay," she agreed. "There's jook in the pot, and take off the red. There's extra leather armor and furs in the lifeboat. It will blend in with the forest. Take some. You'll need it."

Smellerbee wasn't sure how she became the leader of this - whatever it was. It started with Ping, a Dai Li deserter, then morphed from there to a couple of Ba Sing Se guards that had abandoned ship. One of them had a generational family friend from the Fire Nation, and it all grew from there. Now, the group of roughly twenty five was on the black sands of the Fire Nation, their stolen fire navy ship scuttled off shore, leaving no direction for return. This mission was of life and death, and they were all going to die. They knew that the moment their boots stepped ashore. All was well, as long as the Fire Lord went with them.

They even had a water tribe man thrown in the mix; A man named Tiguaak. They met snaking their way down the shore. Turns out, he and a few other water tribesmen were on the same mission as them, but they didn't make it out alive. Tiguaak was the only one left out of their group. Smellerbee had been worried he was too soft for the job at first, but after seeing him move, blood stained on his skin, she was led to believe otherwise. When she asked him why he painted himself in deer's blood, he answered because of a shirshu that had snuffed his tribesmen out and lead to their deaths. She knew he was a warrior right then and there. The next day, every warrior she had was painted in blood and covered in animal skins.

He was a quiet man, at least now. War will do that to a person. But she respected his judgement. Ping, Tiguaak, and Longshot were her go to planners and leaders. It had gotten them this far and for this long. No reason to stop believing in them now. They'd been on the black shores for two months, slowly inching towards their goal. Vigilantism or guerilla warfare, whatever you wanted to call it, it would get the job done eventually.

They slipped through the trees, undiscovered and under the cover of the sun that had yet to rise. There was a small infantry post upcoming - according to Aki. They could resupply there. Fire Nations forests were foreign and hunting and gathering was difficult, so they had to do something. Otherwise, they were going to starve.

The group surveyed the outpost, hidden tucked away on a hillside, the grass coming up to their chests. Smellerbee waved her hands for the rest of the men to fan out down a line to see more. They did - without question, their muddied and bloodied furs as their camouflage. The men had an understanding, if one were to get caught, they would be left behind. So, don't get caught.

Longshot pointed a thin finger over the field. A shirshu and a rider surveying the early morning sunlit field.

"That's him," Tiguuak said, the blood on his face flaking off as he scrunched his nose. "That's the shirshu and the rider that killed the others."

"Longshot," Smellerbee ordered, and he obliged. Standing just long enough to dock an arrow, pull it back, and release it. The arrow burst through the air, curving upwards then down, in silence. It struck home, and the rider slumped off the animal without alerting the others.

Smellerbee waved her hands forwards, and in four different lines - the men shuffled through the tall grass, merely a herd of animals to anyone that looked down, towards the wilderness outpost; their swords and spears lowered to stay unseen. How she could turn this shady bunch into coordinated assassins, she wasn't sure. But she'd done it. And that's what mattered.

She came to the rider and the shirshu, which looked lost now that it didn't have a man to lead it. With a grunt and a heave and without the help of the lot behind her, she heaved his body into the tall grass. Then, she tied the shirshu to a root in the ground. They may be able to come back for it later.

The outpost was small, only a rag tag group of non benders sent out to the wilderness to rot. Smellerbee's men pressed themselves against the wooden barrier, right underneath the watch post that was empty. They weren't expecting an attack on their own grounds. Most of their men must not even be awake yet.

With a knowing movement of her hand, the archers of the bunch clambered in silence up the wooden spikes; sitting just below the top of the wall. The pikemen held the two entrances, their spears out to pierce anyone who attempted escape. And last but not least, Longshot and the swordsmen took their position with Smellerbee.

"Aki, stay with me," she ordered. "But take out your sword. Do what you can."

"Yes sir," he said, the words muffled against his bandages. He unsheathed his sword and held it warily in his left palm; his dominant hand would do him no good.

"They're not expecting us. Find the leaders, the ones with the special uniforms, and hold them. Try to get them to surrender after. If not, kill everyone," she ordered. All the swordsmen nodded.

They slipped past the pikemen and into the outpost. Whatever general they had here was an idiot. They didn't even have the entrances that well-guarded. Two unsuspecting slit throats later and they were well on their way inside. If they thought they could hang out in the forest and get drunk all day, they were wrong.

Smellerbee peeped around the corner of a sloppily build barrack, her eyes trained on the half-dressed soldiers inside. They were laughing and sloshing rice wine onto the rickety wooden planks. Drinking this early in the morning? Good. That made her job that much easier.

That's when she spotted him; The general or whatever he was in his pompous looking uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm like an ornament instead of armor. He was drinking right alongside his men. What a mess they were.

"That's General Ganga," Aki whispered.

"Longshot, get his attention," Smellerbee said.

Longshot docked an arrow, aimed for a split second through the window, and let the arrow fly. It shot right between the general's arm and his torso, sending the helmet he was holding clamoring to the floor behind him. The whole room went silent, and some drinks fell from hands as the group of roughly twenty soldiers caught up to what just happened.

"Who's there?" the general called, unsheathing his sword. His soldiers hurriedly looked for their weapons, but another arrow pinning a man to the floor stopped them dead in their tracks.

"You're surrounded already General Ganga," Smellerbee said, stepping out so she could be seen through the opened wall of the barrack. The general's eyes narrowed, studying her face covered in blood and the dagger in her hand.

"What are you?" he asked. "A vengeful spirit?"

"Something like that," she answered. "My men have every escape route you have covered. My archers are lined outside your walls, and my pikemen are ready at your gates."

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Surrender," she answered.

He laughed, kick and mocking. "Why? So, the Fire Lord can have my head?"

"Either him or me," she said, twirling her dagger.

"You're just a boy," he said. "What can you do?"

She stayed silent and sheathed her dagger, a serious look about her face. The general smiled as if he'd seen right through her.

"You don't have us surrounded. You're bluffing," he said snidely.

"If that's what you think," she said casually.

"Archers!" the general called, and a soldier whipped around from his watch tower not too far away. Longshot was at Smellerbee's side in an instant. The archer readied, sent an arrow her way, and Longshot snatched it right out of the air it with a leather gloved hand. He docked it, sent it back home, and the archer slouched from the watchtower and hit the ground with a thud. The whole time Smellerbee's eyes hadn't torn from the generals. The general's eyes, along with the rest of the unprepared soldiers in the barrack, went wide with shock.

"Demons," the general accused, his head whipping around to the men in furs that had slipped in the windows behind him. His soldiers, wide eyed with terror, shuffled towards him, their backs against each other's for defense. "You're demons! All of you!"

"No," Smellerbee argued. "Aki, show them what we are."

Aki stepped around the corner, his nubbed hand clutched against his chest and his sword in the other. The soldiers and the general watched him relieve himself of the heavy furs and unravel the bandages on his face. Their eyes trained to Aki's marred skin, and his eyes were gold and what hair he had left matched their own.

"Aki," one of the soldiers breathed. "You're _alive_."

He nodded and rewrapped his face and burdened his furs. "Our generals left me to die, along with the rest of the division. They'll do the same to you if you give them the chance."

"He came back from the dead," the general accused. "They're demons!"

"What?" another soldier piped up. "That's crazy!"

"Surrender and we won't hurt anyone," Smellerbee said, stern and unmoved.

"Don't you dare," the general snapped, whipping his head around to eye his soldiers. "What are you useless lot standing around for anyway?! Attack them!"

"But-" a soldier started, confused. "He's one of us."

"Don't defy my orders! Kill them!" he ordered. His face went hot as his soldiers kept their positions, eyeing him like he was the crazy one in all of this and not the bloodied, forest demons that came from nowhere.

"You have two options," Smellerbee said, calm and steady. "Try to kill us," she said, throwing a thumb to Longshot. "And archers like this one send every arrow they have at you. Or surrender, give us your food, and go home to your families. Or join us. Whichever you like."

"Traitors," the general spat at Smellerbee and Aki. "You're all traitors! The Fire Lord will have all of your heads!"

"I have given you your options. This man is not loyal to you. So quick to send you to your deaths. You are free to choose," she said, disregarding the general and addressing his confused soldiers. They eyed each other, thinking, and the general's head looked like it would explode at any moment.

"Living to see tomorrow sounds pretty good Ganga," a soldier said.

"What?!" the general snapped. "Cowards! All of you! Have you no loyalty to your Fire Lord?!"

"Why would we?" a man in the background asked. "We get stuck out here in the woods eating slop for breakfast while all his precious benders get to live the good life!"

"We should surrender," another suggested. "We all just want to see home one day, Ganga."

"Don't you dare! Hold your ground! Don't –" the general snarled, but the words didn't get to leave his mouth. A soldier, young and so tired already, smashed a nearby chair into the back of his head. The general fell forwards, unconscious.

Smellerbee watched the mutiny, not pleased but not unhappy with it. At least these soldiers get to see another day, just like her own. They made the smart choice.

"Now what?" one of the soldiers asked, his hands shaking with panic, unknowing what to do with himself. "We can't just go home! They'll arrest us for deserting! They'll kill us! They-"

"Yachi," another interrupted. "Ganga would have us all killed right here had we not done what we did. We are all brothers here. We will find a way."

"But what about the army? What about the Fire Lord? What about-"

"The Fire Lord sent us out here to rot in the forest while he eats caviar in the palace! You know that! They never cared about us! You shouldn't care for him!" another called.

"Yachi," Smellerbee said, and the young soldier turned to her. "We are The Freedom Fighters. You can join us is you are afraid to return. We are going to stop the war by killing the Fire Lord, so that everyone can go home one day - without fear."

The man swallowed the lump in his throat and eyed the rest of the soldiers around him, all looking about as unsure as he did. "Okay," he finally relented, as if speaking for the group. "Okay, so what now?"

"We eat," Smellerbee said, turning on her heals. "Tomorrow we move."

* * *

Longshot unclipped the shoulders to Smellerbee's armor, the same serious look on his face he always possessed. She eyed him, expressionless, and his face was a tad softer when it was just them. No one else could see it, but she could. She wondered if he could see it on her face as well.

She didn't want to take up the general's quarters. It was unfair to the others. But she had to wash this blood from herself. She had to change out of this odorous armor without seeing eyes. With the shirshu in their possession, it wasn't necessary to smell like an animal anymore.

No one here knew she was a woman besides Longshot, and she wanted it to stay that way. It was for her own safety. Her breast plate loosened, and she felt herself sigh in relief. She was growing into herself, her features becoming less boyish by the day, and it was getting harder and harder to keep up this charade. It was a good thing height was starting to be on her side. She'd grown in a quick spurt in the past few months. Hitting puberty did have its upsides.

Longshot drew a bucket of water, and the two undressed in the sanctity of the closed room, sponging the pungent blood from their skin. He was the only one she felt comfortable enough around to do such a thing. His eyes never lingered, but he didn't quickly draw them away either. She wanted it that way. He treated her with respect, like her body was just another body. Like she was just another fighter. Woman or not. And there was no other more loyal than Longshot. He was the only one she trusted to sleep nearby. She may have these deserters in numbers, but their loyalty was scattered. Just men trying to see another day. She understood that, and tried as hard as she could to meet that expectation.

Tiguaak and Ping took guard outside, warily watching the new recruits strip themselves of their armor, replacing it completely or rubbing mud into the fabric to change the color. Ping eyed Yachi, the one who spoke out before. He still looked as unsure as he did then. Pings's eyes narrowed watching him, suspicious of his motives, unsure of where his loyalty lied. It didn't have to lie with them, as long as it didn't lie with the army or the Fire Lord. Most of the men out here seemed to be under the impression that their fellow soldiers were more important, but not Yachi.

Smellerbee wrapped white linen tight around her chest and threw on the now much cleaner black shirt, and a knock came at the door. Longshot's eyes shot up.

"It's Ping," he said from outside.

"Come in," she said, now decent from her bathing.

He and Tiguaak entered and stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed and eyes still narrowed. "You should have killed that one," Ping said pointedly, looking down to the cross-legged girl on the floor.

"He's just a boy," Smellerbee answered.

"A boy that could have us all killed if he decides to run and tell," Ping retorted.

"We can't kill him because of what he _might_ do," she said sternly.

Ping sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look, I know what you're trying to do. But this is serious."

"So am I," she said. "Three men are already dead because of us. I don't want anymore to be if we can help it."

"What if he makes a run for it?" Ping questioned. "Huh? What are we going to do?"

"Ping," Longshot cut in, authoritative and reprimanding all in one word.

Tiguaak, with kind and tired eyes, stepped forwards, almost pleading. "We don't have to kill him, but we need to do something about him. Lock him away or something."

"Since when does the watertribe condone having captives?" Smellerbee questioned. "We're the Freedom Fighters. We _can't_ keep captives. That's the whole point. People choose us or they don't."

Ping grunted. "I think you may be putting your _virtues_ above our safety."

"Have you forgotten why you left the Dai Li, Ping?" Smellerbee scolded. "Because of your virtues! You've seen what happens when people set them aside, and so have I! I will _not_ become _him_!" she spat, the ending coming from somewhere inside her that she wasn't even aware of. She sighed and pressed her face into her hands, rubbing her temples. Longshot laid his hand on her shoulder and eyed Ping, who still looked unmoved.

"Become who?" Tiguaak asked softly.

"Our old leader," she answered, more sigh than words. "He was - misguided."

"What happened to him?" Tiguaak asked.

"Dead," Smellerbee said pointedly, raising her eyes to glare at him.

"-Oh," Tigaauk said. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Smellerbee said, but the words came out more wavering than she liked.

"What was his name?" Tiguaak asked.

Smellerbee sighed and rubbed her palms on the floorboards, choking back the pain bubbling in her stomach. "Jet," she said simply.

Tiguaak took pause, only having heard that name once before. But from where? He tried to remember, and Smellerbee eyed him curiously as he did.

"What – what did he look like?" he asked.

"Why?" she questioned.

"Just tell me!" he barked.

"Brown hair," Longshot answered, his eyes narrowing. "Brown eyes. Olive skin. Carried hook swords. Now, tell us why."

"He's – he's not dead," Tiguaak answered. "Or at least he wasn't. He rode in with us."

" _What_?" Smellerbee breathed.

"It's true," he said. "I talked to him. He had a kid with him. Said his name was Jet and that he was looking for the avatar."

"Why would he-" Smellerbee started, confused, then bubbled with anger. "You're lying!"

"Why would I?!" Tiguaak defended.

"I grieved him! I saw him _die_! You're lying!" she spat.

"Bee," Longshot whispered, laying his hand on her shoulder to calm her. He looked down to her, eyes welled with something she couldn't place.

"Get out, both of you!" she spat. Ping threw his hands up and exited without a word. "Okay," Tiguaak said simply. He shot her a sympathetic look before leaving too. He shut the door behind him with a soft click, and the tears welled in Smellerbee's eyes.

"He's lying," she whispered. "He has to be, Longshot."

Longshot kneeled and embraced her, the tears flowing down her reddened cheeks. "Maybe not," he said simply.

"He is, I know he is," she croaked. "Jet's dead. I know it. I grieved him, Longshot!"

"I know," he said softly, squeezing her a little tighter. "I know."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you to all those that have subscribed, bookmarked, and commented such lovely things. It makes my heart warm that people are liking this story. I really like engaging with ya'll in the comments, and I'm so happy that people have taken the time to do so with me. I hope this chapter is enjoyable too. Much Love to you and Yours <3 - LaoTzu

"They only have one beast of burden here," Tiguaak said, "the shirshu."

"Pack the rice on it," Smellerbee ordered. "We need to leave quickly."

"Yes sir," Tiguaak agreed.

The sun had yet to rise and outpost was already filled with sounds of hurried footsteps, the clink of weapons and the rustle of fabric as the men packed their scarce belongings.

Yachi was missing, and that was a problem. Who knows how far he'd made it in the middle of the night.

The sound of forty sets of boots against dampened earth faded into the distance, and the outpost was left a ghost town.

* * *

_1 Week Later_

Jet was fully aware of what he was doing. He was doing what he always did, with everything. Rushing headlong into this – whatever it was he had with Zuko. Zuko was too, he could tell. But it was like neither of them could really do anything about it. Both of them seemed so desperate for some sort of companionship, some sort of space where the world stopped turning for just a little while. He was helpless for it, and Zuko seemed to be too. Which wasn't much comfort, but some.

He knew somewhere at the back of his mind that they were just setting each other up. That one day, when they weren't amidst a war, and the air temple wasn't some shelled off place they could hide from reality and kiss, where they could sleep in the same bed, sharing warmth, stealing stilled moments from each other whenever they needed it, that one day; it would have to end. Like everything good in his life. But right now, he felt a thousand miles away from anything. From the war. From the pain. From the facts. From everything.

He was sinking, and he knew he should put a stop to it, before he could get any deeper. But the thought was a drowning one, suffocated by the absolute amazing way that Zuko felt against him. How Zuko's head turned over his shoulder, golden eyes expecting him now as he tried to sneak up on him to spin him on his heals and press his lips to his. His insults that were only feigning protests that Jet was sure he didn't mean, and were even somewhat endearing at this point. How Zuko still slept the opposite of the bed, but yet somehow even without the actual cuddling it still made him feel so warm and fluttery as if they actually were.

He didn't deserve to wake up to see tussled black locks, the shade of pink that overtook Zuko's cheeks every morning when he woke up and remembered where he was. Again.

He didn't deserve this beautiful child that awakened him every day. He didn't deserve The Duke coming by almost every afternoon to pick her up and spend time with her. Or how Katara would spin her around and laugh or how Sokka would shoot jokes to him about how he shouldn't encourage her with children because they had enough going on. How Toph would talk shit to him better than he ever talked shit to anyone. How Aang would smile shyly at him like he didn't quite know how to connect with him, but was trying anyway. Or how Zuko tried not to blush from across the campfire when their eyes would lock, and how his eyes would dart away like a spooked doe trying not to be seen. Oh, and his half remembered tea jokes that were absolutely _adorable_.

He didn't deserve any of it. He didn't deserve this sense of… family? If you could call it that already. He hadn't felt it in such a long time. It almost felt wrong to. Like he was betraying his old one. Betraying his gang. But where ever they were, he hoped they were happy. Wished that they could see him now. Wished that somehow, they could be here with him. It wasn't quite the same without them.

And he was afraid. Afraid of losing it. It felt so _good_. All of it. But he knew, somehow, he was going to fuck it all up. Just like he did before.

But he couldn't bring himself to put an end to it. To draw himself away from it before it had a chance to swallow him. He wanted it to, somewhere below the fear and the loathing. Or maybe above it. He wasn't sure.

Now, he just watched Zuko in his sleep, still propped up in the corner like he did every night for the past week. But Jet knew, at some point, he would stir and slip down onto the bed. He looked so peaceful, the lines and the grumpiness somehow melted away and left a boy much too young for what the world had already put him through. Like himself. Like the outcasts the two were. He wanted to reach across and run his fingers across the lines of the scar, but not wanting to chase Zuko away, he didn't. He ran his eyes over it instead, something he tried not to do while he was awake, and wondered.

How did he get it? He supposed it has always been a question he had. But seemed too brash a thing to ask outright, even for him. Zuko had said his country did it to him, but what did that really mean? It was so vague, it left him with more questions than answers.

The more he thought, the more he grew aware that he had no actual idea of who Zuko was. He was a prince, sure. He was Fire Nation, sure. But why was he here? Why had he gone to Ba Sing Se all that time ago? What was his family like? He almost feared the answers. He wondered if Zuko feared what his answers would be too. Like either way, what ever they had, these stolen moments of stillness in a churning world, would be shattered by them. Leaving a ghost of what could have been had they left it all a mystery and just went with the little that they did know.

Yet somehow, he felt like he knew so much about him anyway. He wasn't that hard to read, really. Every emotion he had showed so clearly on his face at all times that Jet never really had to wonder about them. And spirits, he was _so bad_ at lying. Always. It was like he didn't even worry that at some point Zuko would be untruthful, because he could see it on his face. He supposed he should just ask whatever questions he wanted to ask and just read his expression. Zuko didn't even have to speak the answers out loud with his awkward, grumpy words.

But right now, he tried to be content with being content. Content with being two boys needing something from each other, and not yet knowing what it might be. Or where it might lead.

* * *

Jet liked to tell stories, Zuko found out. None that where particularly invasive or personal, but still somehow threw little hints at him about the inner mechanisms of his mind. How it turned, how it worked. Like only seeing one gear but being imaginative enough to fill in the rest.

When the day was coming to an end, and most others were busy, the two (well, two and a half) would walk, sometimes in silence and sometimes not, around the temple grounds, ignoring the occasional looks it garnered from the others. To them, they were just friends. Unknowing about the sharing of a bed or the frequent locking of lips. It was like their little secret, whether it really had to be a secret or not. Something almost sacred about it. Like it was their time and their time alone.

Jet told him about breakfasts in the woods where he lived before, almost wistfully, but a fondness in his words that seemed to tell Zuko everything he needed to know about him. Scrambled robins eggs because most kids would eat it, no matter how many mushrooms or vegetables he chopped and hid amongst it. He looked up to Tikka, who was sat atop Rosebud (with help from Jet, of course), and Zuko assumed he'd pulled the same trick on her before.

Zuko wondered if he should tell a story or two too, but didn't quite feel his were nearly as interesting. Or at least, that Jet wouldn't find them so. How does palace life really compare with that of woodsy, outdoorsy tales? Where was the common ground with it all? Unable to think of anything that he thought might interest Jet, he kept his mouth closed, and Jet filled in the space, almost like he was conversing with himself and Zuko was a spectator. But he didn't miss the short pause Jet gave him, as if waiting for him to say something, maybe a tidbit about himself, without ever asking for it outright.

Jet ran his hand through a rosemary bush growing up through cracks in the stone, and Zuko was pretty sure that was where the aroma that frequented him had come from.

"Forest perfume," Jet confirmed, then plucked a twig of it and examined it.

"Why are you looking at it like that?" Zuko asked curiously.

"Spiders like it," Jet answered. Once thoroughly pleased with the spiderless twig, he tucked it into his pocket. Zuko wondered how many random items were actually in there. How long did he keep these things? It was a little cute he had to admit, this quirk Jet had about putting random things in his pockets - like a child. Flowers and rocks and twigs and stalks of seeding grass. Did he ever do anything with them? Besides chew them? There was something innocent about the habit though, and innocence wasn't what he normally correlated with Jet. He wondered if it stemmed from somewhere; this holding onto of useless things.

Times like these, Zuko could almost forget about everything. Forget that he was training to kill his father. Forget that he was a banished prince and fade into nothingness, the sounds and stories of maple forests and nature's treasures filling his head instead. Like the world, while in this temple, had slowed down enough to see it. See a beauty in it. An appreciation of things he'd taken for granted while living on the road, miserable and hungry and unknowing of what really was out there for him to utilize. He wondered what it would have been like had Jet been with him the whole time. Able to point out the things that he knew were safe to eat, and not leaving it for Uncle to guess and inflame his face with hives.

He wondered how many near fatal mistakes Jet had to make to have this endless knowledge of survival. Did anyone teach him these things? He'd never spoken of a mother or father, that he just knew these things like one knows the back of their hand. Though, Zuko himself had never spoken to him of his own family, so perhaps he already knew the reason why he didn't speak of it. It was a painful thing most likely. Perhaps why he holds onto useless things, like Zuko held onto his mother's theatre masks. Maybe Jet didn't have anything to hold, so he found things instead. Filling his pockets with memories.

Like with all things in life, especially something as big as a war, there were constant reminders that broke this leisurely pace they had finally been able to slow down to.

Jet raised a brow at something, and Zuko's eyes suddenly followed, breaking his silent reverie. Sokka was approaching, looking somewhat sheepish but determined and serious at the same time.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Sokka asked, looking like he was trying not to dart his eyes between him and Jet, trying to set aside this putting together of dots that made the blood want to run to Zuko's cheeks.

Zuko nodded, and him and Sokka stepped a good distance away.

"So, what's up?"

"If someone was captured by the Fire Nation, where would they be taken?"

* * *

Smellerbee's head hung low from exhaustion, her lips bloodied and swollen, her body aching and the wound in her leg still fresh and ripe with pain. She was strapped to a chair in an interrogation room, but it wasn't a very intimidating one. Only a chair in an empty, dark cell - the only light coming in from the slot on the metal door.

Tiguaak and Ping had been right about Yachi. He led the eel-hounds and the cavalry of rhinos right to her men. But it didn't matter. Longshot got his final say when he sent an arrow through his chest plate. What mattered was every other man fought back, even the ones that just joined, and they _all_ got away. Her men would be fine. They still had Tiguaak and Ping to lead them, for now.

But her body ached with fury. Damn Longshot and his loyalty. Damn his commitment for her. It got him thrown in here right alongside her, _presumably_ , and now she didn't know where he was. He could be dead. She didn't even know where _she_ was. They had put a bag over her head for three days, and somehow she ended up carted here; bloodied and beaten but not broken. But admittedly, very close.

She had gone down with an enemy arrow, and she threw every obscenity she knew Longshot's way to get him to leave her behind. She chucked dirt and twigs and rocks at him from the grass around her. Cussing him. Telling him she _hated_ him, her throat raw from screaming, and told him over and over again to leave her. _Please_ , leave her. _Please_.

But he didn't. He stayed steady, bow up and drawn with a level headiness she wished to possess; picking off riders one by one as they came to collect her. He had turned to Tiguaak, who was batting off arrows with his club.

"Take the men and run. I'll hold them off," Longshot told him, authoritative and final.

So, Tiguaak did; Ignoring Smellerbee's cries to drag Longshot with him. And eventually, Longshot had to surrender. His quiver had emptied, and he put down his bow and put his arms up. Now he was gone - and she was alone.

And _pissed_ off.

She wondered if this was how Jet had felt. Like an animal lonesome, backed into the corner of a cage, nothing to do but fester and rot with this rage and pain and hate inside of him. No other options. The ache too much to bear. The anger giving something to hold onto. A person to blame. Something to blame. Something to _fight_. She surely couldn't fight the ache in her bones from the arrow, or the bloodied lip, or the fact that the only person she ever truly loved was torn from her.

All sitting in this cell was doing was amplifying it, stewing it, feeding it like kindle to a fire. If the interrogators before thought she was bad, snapping at growling and snarling like a rabid animal, she pitied whoever came next; Now that her anger had bubbled into a stagnant, breathy calm.

The metal door creaked open, and the light flooding in made her squint her eyes. But she sat her head back, prideful, and someone snapped their fingers, bringing the torches on the walls to a flickering, painful glow.

It was a woman this time. How quaint.

"So, this is the one?" the woman hummed, every bit of malice and spite in her words despite the tone. "They told me you were a girl, but looking at you I'm not quite sure I believe them."

"That's the point, bitch," Smellerbee quipped.

"Do you know who you're speaking to?" the woman hummed. "I'm Princess Azula of the Fire Nation."

Smellerbee gathered the moisture and blood in her mouth and spat it in front of her, narrowly missing the Princess's curled boots. "Don't care."

Azula's lips curled into a vicious smile, one that Smellerbee had become well accustomed too. That was Jet's old smile, through and through. She kept her head leaned back against the chair, glaring, and eventually the smile faded back into a tiny smirk. If it was any indicator, this woman wasn't as complicated as she tried to seem. It was a shield. One she had to break.

"They told me you were feisty," Azula purred. "But let's just keep this short, shall we? Tell me where the rest of the traitors went, and we won't have to bloody you up anymore."

"You don't scare me," Smellerbee murmured, low and calm, her throat raw and dry from screaming obscenities at the ones before.

"I should," Azula said, looking to her nails, unbothered.

"But you don't," Smellerbee reiterated.

Azula smiled once more, amused. "Your friend is a quiet one. What is he? A peasant and a mute? How unfortunate."

Smellerbee's eyebrows twitched, but probably not for the reason Azula thought, but it was just enough for Azula to latch onto. She smiled at the opening, pushing it further. "He wasn't so quiet when we broke his fingers."

So Longshot was alive. That's all she needed to know. Smellerbee wouldn't give this the chance to accelerate any further. This woman was trying to manipulate her, she could smell it. She was _used_ to it. She had to rein this conversation in, switch it around. Give this woman an inch, and she was going to take a mile. "I've met you before," she said, not completely a lie. She's met enough of her to know what she's all about. She was a manipulator like Jet, without the charm or any of the other good qualities. Just a cruel, spiteful bitch.

"Oh? Must not have been very memorable," Azula retorted. "Because I don't remember _you_."

Smellerbee smiled a little, which seemed to dent something in Azula. Good, she was getting her on the run. "You think you're _so_ scary, but I _pity_ you. _Everyone_ around you pities you," Smellerbee said, the same low and calm tone.

That seemed to do something too. The dent turning into a crack. Insecurity bingo.

"Ha!" Azula chimed. "That's hilarious. Now, back to you telling me where your little traitor friends went. Before I decide to break your friend's legs instead of his fingers."

"He's not scared of you either. And where are _your_ friends, Princess?" Smellerbee asked. "You seem a little too worried about mine."

"Stop wasting my time," Azula snapped. And there it was.

"You're jealous of me, aren't you? I can see it on your face," Smellerbee mused.

"Jealous? Of _you_?" Azula laughed, quick and mocking. "What is there to be jealous of? You're an ugly little girl locked in a cage with a festering arrow wound in her leg."

"Tell me, who hurt you to make you this way? Was it your Father?" Smellerbee asked. "I wouldn't know. Mine loved me. So do my friends, and my men. Do you know what that's like, Princess?"

When Azula's face fell into a scowl, Smellerbee pressed forwards. "No? Was it Mother then? Mommy issues must be tough."

"Guards," Azula said with a flick of her wrist. "Make sure this one doesn't eat today."

Oh, but Smellerbee wasn't done.

"My friends are loyal to me. Yours will turn on you in an _instant_. Just like _your_ soldiers left _your_ army to help _me_ , you _fucking cunt_."

"Put this _animal_ in the cooler!" Azula barked.

"But Princess Azula, she's not a firebender," the guard said.

"Does it look like I care?!" Azula spat. "I want to never see her face again."

"Just like a _coward_ ," Smellerbee hissed as the guards began to unstrap her. "Get your men to do your dirty work for you so you don't have to get your precious hands dirty! How does it feel?! Knowing no one around will ever really respect you!"

"You shut your filthy, peasant mouth!" Azula spat.

"You're _scared_ ," Smellerbee spat back, the guards lifting her onto her tired legs. She winced at the wound, but continued despite it. "And you _should_ be. You've never met anyone like me before. Someone who isn't afraid of _you_."

"Put her in and let her _freeze,"_ Azula snarled, then turned on her heals to exit the room. Smellerbee smiled, probably a little twisted, but she couldn't help it.

They drug her backwards down the hall, her arms tide behind her, and she spotted the Princess on the walkway. She piped her voice up, so that everyone in this damned prison could hear her fury, despite her aching throat.

" _Trust me,_ Princess! I'm going to kill you one day!" she shouted, the sounds echoing against the metal walls. "With my _bare hands_."

She just caught a glimpse of the Princess turn to look over her shoulder, and she couldn't place the look on her face, but she'd like to think it was fear. Or maybe it was the beginning of a snarl, but either way. It didn't matter.

A metal door closed her off from it before she could tell, and she grunted as the guards shoved her into what she presumed was the 'cooler'. They slammed the door shut, and she was left alone once more, slumped at the bottom of the freezing cell.

She finally took the time to fully grimace at her leg, the movement seeming to tear open the wound, sending blood tricking down her thigh from under the haphazard bandages they had wrapped around it. It puddled a little on the cold, metal bottom, and eventually it started to cake with ice. Her breath was visible, and her fury calmed into a dull, painful ache once again.

* * *

Time was a strange thing whilst locked in a tiny, freezing cell. The pain and shivering was immeasurable, and though Smellerbee would like to think that nothing could ever really break her, this was going to be what did. She wished they'd just kill her already. Put her out of her misery.

She'd been in here at least a day, her wound left open to gush random bouts of blood onto the floor. Fading in and out was the only thing keeping her alive, and somewhat sane, a break from the intolerable, frigid cold and the ache of what was probably an infected wound. She had prepared to die. Wrote her sentiments in her head long ago. But never expected to die like this. Humiliated and alone. Tortured and starved and broken. No shred of dignity besides the fact that she had gotten the last word. Nothing to hold onto despite the fact that Longshot _could_ be still alive. Jet too, she supposed, though that thought wasn't nearly as tangible or believable. Maybe, she just didn't want to believe it. It was easier not to. Hope was a painful thing, and she was in enough pain already.

Even the thought of Longshot being alive wasn't much of a comfort. They were probably doing the same thing to him. Though, she hoped he'd kept his mouth shut more than she had. He probably did. That's one of the reasons they worked so well together. He always had this way of meaningful silence, a respectable stoic ease that complimented her rash, almost animalistic way of dealing.

Sitting back against the cold metal wall, unable to even draw her arms around her legs for warmth, she could feel herself fading, scrubbed out of existence in the cruelest way possible. Freezing to death and bleeding out while her belly was so empty it didn't even feel hunger anymore and with a throat so dry it was hard to even swallow.

There wasn't even room for anger. The cold had snubbed it out hours ago, and replaced it weary exhaustion. She just wanted to cry, but she couldn't even manage more than a sorrowful tear or two, icing as they ran down her cheeks. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered if Longshot knew she loved him. He had to of, somewhere deep down. She regretted never telling him, none the less. Regretted never acting on it, more so. Too scared he saw her how everyone else seemed to; an ugly, boyish little girl with a scratchy voice and a tongue much sharper than her looks.

She pressed her eyes shut, the tears still prickled in her eyes, as the door to the cooler swung open. Hoping, praying they were here to put a knife in her chest but honestly too afraid to meet it, she kept her eyes pressed shut tight - and thought of happiness. Imagined what it felt like. Living on a farm or something with the only worry being where she and Longshot would position the candle on the table for dinner. Not war and ache and pain. Just a simple life she wished she would have taken the chance to live instead of this. She smiled and tears ran down her cheeks at the prospect. It would never be hers. This was the end, and her only comfort was what could have been had she just opened her stupid, stubborn, ugly mouth.

A voice broke through the cold.

"Oh, jeez," it said. It was another woman, though not nearly as fake sounding. More dull and gloomy, maybe even somewhat bored. "Get her off the floor and clean this blood up."

"But Lady Mai, Princess Azula-" a guard replied.

"I don't care what Azula said," she said plainly. "This is my Uncle's prison; a respectable one. Not a sadism den."

"Yes, Lady Mai," the guard answered.

"Take her to the infirmary and get her leg closed up. I would like to speak with her once she's eaten and gotten some rest," Mai said.

"Yes, Lady Mai."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang flirts their way through prison. I'm not sorry.

Zuko and Sokka were definitely up to something, and Jet was determined to find out what. It shouldn’t be too hard. They were both equally as bad as the other at keeping secrets.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jet asked, and Zuko blinked his eyes at him. Like an idiot.

“What plan?” Zuko asked.

“Zuko, I’m not stupid,” Jet said. “Sokka, what are you planning?”

“I’m not planning anything,” Sokka said. “Why are you so paranoid?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m paranoid,” Jet said.

“Well, I mean you kinda’ are,” Sokka retorted.

“That’s not the point,” Jet said. “I know you’re up to something. Just tell me.”

Sokka did that little, stupid whistle thing he does when he was definitely planning something. Jet stared at him, and Sokka looked away.

“What?” Sokka asked, not able to make eye contact.

“So, you’re just _not_ gonna’ tell me? I see how it is,” Jet said. “Zuko, what is he planning?”

“I don’t know either!” Zuko snapped. Okay, maybe Zuko really didn’t know. But there was for sure a plan and Jet needed to be in on it.

“Look, I’m a natural leader. I need to know the plan,” Jet reiterated.

“You are definitely not the leader,” Sokka retorted. “I am.”

“Okay, Sokka,” Jet said with a roll of his eyes. “But I still need to know the plan that you plan to lead.”

“I’m not leading any plan. - Because there isn’t one,” Sokka retorted.

Jet sighed, long and low. “You know what, I’ll find out eventually.”

* * *

Sokka was really bad at sneaking. Zuko too. Did he really think he was going to be able to climb out the bed and Jet not notice? What a moron.

Jet trailed him down the hallway, watching as Zuko climbed into Appa’s saddle. Sokka wasn’t far behind, almost stepping on Momo’s tail as he “snuck” around the rest of the gang.

“Not up to anything huh?” Zuko scolded as Sokka tried to climb aboard.

Sokka, of course, fell and sent his bagged items scattering across the stone.

“Fine, you caught me. I'm gonna rescue my dad. You happy now?” Sokka snapped.

“I'm never happy,” Zuko retorted.

Ouch. That hurt a little.

“Look, I have to do this. The invasion plan was my idea, it was my decision to stay when things were going wrong. It's my mistake, and it's my job to fix it. I have to regain my honor. You can't stop me, Zuko.”

“You need to regain your honor? Believe me, I get it. I'm going with you.”

“No. I have to do this alone.”

“How are you going to get there? On Appa? Last time I checked, prisons don't have bison daycares. We’ll take my war balloon.”

Jet stepped out from his hiding place behind the pillar. “So, we’re taking your balloon?” he asked.

Sokka and Zuko both jumped in their skins.

“Jet!” Zuko scolded. “What – what are you doing?”

“What am _I_ doing? You just thought you could sneak away and leave me behind huh? I’m going with you too,” Jet said sternly.

“No, no, no,” Sokka said. “I already have to babysit Zuko. I’m not babysitting you too.”

“Babysit?” Jet scoffed.

“Speaking of babies, where’s Tikka?” Zuko asked.

“I put her in the sleeping bag with Katara,” Jet answered casually.

“You opened my sister’s _sleeping bag_?” Sokka scolded.

“It’s not like I _groped_ her, Sokka! I like _men_. You know that!” Jet defended.

Zuko coughed.

“Oh, yeah,” Sokka said, not seeming to notice Zuko’s sudden asthma. “But still, you can’t just leave your baby with people without asking!”

“Why not?” Jet asked innocently. “That’s what we did in my village. And Katara _loves_ it.”

“ _That’s not the point_. This is not your vil-“ Sokka started to scold, then inhaled a breath. “You know what, it’s okay. You’re still not coming.”

“You’re not leaving me out of the honor regaining fieldtrip. I’m coming,” Jet said sternly.

“Just let him come Sokka,” Zuko said, exhausted.

“See? Zuko agrees,” Jet said smugly. “Two to one, Sokka.”

“Urgh, fine!” Sokka spat. “Let’s just go already.”

* * *

Jet sat on the floor of the balloon, absolutely relishing in the fact that he was sat in between the boy he was currently kissing, and the brother to who he was _previously_ kissing. It was awkward as hell, no one really making any amount of real eye contact, and normally he would eat this kind of thing up.

But spirits, was it boring. No one was talking. He closed his eyes for a nap a half hour ago, and still nothing had happened. Just stupid small talk about clouds. He was just about asleep, when Zuko snapped something that jolted him awake.

“Hey, hold on. Not everyone in my family is like that!”

“I know, I know, you've changed,” Sokka said.

“I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down,” Zuko said, downtrodden.

“I think your uncle would be proud of you. Leaving your home to come help us? That's hard.”

“It wasn't that hard,” Zuko said.

“Really? You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about?”

“Well, I did have a girlfriend. Mai,” Zuko answered.

_Oh? Zuko has more game than he let’s on, huh?_

“That gloomy girl who sighs a lot?” Sokka asked, suddenly interested.

“Yeah. Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. I couldn't drag her into it,” Zuko said.

Jet felt a pang of something. Something… foreign. Possessiveness? Jealously, maybe? But he pushed the thought away. What right did he have?

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon,” Sokka said, probably a little too casually.

“That’s rough buddy,” Zuko replied.

Jet peeked his eyes open and smirked. “My first girlfriend was your sister,” he said smugly.

“Go back to sleep Jet!” Sokka scolded.

* * *

Smellerbee stared at the wall from the infirmary mattress, the bright walls reflecting the light in from outside the barred room. Her wound was still ripe, but at least now it was sewed shut and bandaged properly. She grimaced as she tried to stretch her bruised muscles, still being a little dehydrated and well, _frozen_ , but not nearly as much as she was. The red prison uniform they’d put on her was surprisingly comforting, at least compared to the bloodied outfit she had on before. But still, she was exhausted, despite the little bit of food she had in her belly and the little bit of sleep she had managed to get. But at least she was alive - and being treated like an actual human being.

The barred door swung open, and she heard some varied protests from the guards outside, followed by the same dull, bored voice she heard before.

“But Lady Mai, she’s dangerous,” the guard warned.

“I can take care of myself,” Mai assured.

“As you wish,” the guard relented.

Smellerbee reluctantly rolled her head towards her, unable to really move her whole body, and watched her with suspicious eyes as she stepped into the room, how her arms folded casually within her long, draping robe sleeves.

“I’m not telling you shit,“ Smellerbee snapped, but was quickly interrupted by a long sigh.

“Look, I get it,” Mai said, unamused but not unkindly. “You’re tough as nails, I know, but I’m not here to interrogate you.”

Smellerbee’s eyebrows furrowed. “What is this? Some good cop, bad cop kinda’ thing? I’m not buying.”

Mai looked like she was about to sigh again at that, but before she could Ty Lee walked into the room on her hands, looking up from the complicated position to smile at Mai before falling back down to her feet in one graceful movement. Smellerbee watched her as she did, more confused than she’d ever been in her entire life.

“Hello, Ty Lee,” Mai said.

“Hey, Mai,” Ty Lee chirped. “This prison is really boring. I figured I’d find you and see what you were up to.”

“Well, as you can see,” Mai said, gesturing around the room. “This is equally as boring.”

Ty Lee eyed Smellerbee, who was still looking like she had no idea what was going on, and smiled before doing yet another little flip and landing right in front of the bed. Ty Lee leaned over a little, and Smellerbee leaned away, about to snarl at the acrobat who was much too comfortable breathing her air.

“Oh, you’re a real cutie,” Ty Lee hummed.

Smellerbee’s cheeks went beet red, not expecting that _at all_. “Oh, uh – I’m – I’m a girl,” she said sheepishly, turning her head and averting her eyes.

“I know,” Ty Lee chirped. “I can tell by the way your lips move. You’re just a tomboy, is all. A really cute one, and that’s okay. I can work with that.”

 _What the fuck is happening?_ Smellerbee thought, still trying to lean away. This was, somehow, way more intimidating than torture had been. “You really think I’m cute?” she managed to ask, unconvinced and surprised and confused - but admittedly… a little flattered.

“Uh, duh. What are these red marks on your face?” Ty Lee asked curiously, pointing her finger.

“Uh,” Smellerbee said, then raised a hand to her reddened cheek. “Warrior’s tattoos from my village?” she answered questioningly.

“Oh, wow you _are_ tough. That must have hurt,” Ty Lee chimed. “And you’re a warrior too? I bet your arms are _really_ strong.”

“Ty Lee,” Mai scolded, though not very enthusiastically. “I didn’t come here for you to sexually harass the prisoner.” Mai looked away for a moment, a slight red running up her own cheeks. “Even though she is… interesting.”

 _What in the_ actual _fuck is happening?_

“What _did_ you come here for?” Ty Lee chirped.

Mai did sigh at that and pulled a chair from the corner of the room, sitting down and crossing her legs and placing her arms on her lap. Smellerbee sheepishly watched her as she did, not quite able to make eye contact with anyone in the room just yet.

“I wanted to ask you if you knew someone,” Mai said to Smellerbee. “He mentioned your group before. Apparently, he met you a while ago.”

“I told you, I’m not telling you anything,” Smellerbee reiterated, though with a little more wavering this time than she would have liked.

“I’ll let you see your friend,” Mai offered plainly.

Smellerbee’s eyes softened despite herself. “Who?” she asked, though very reluctantly.

“Well, his name is Zuko, but you might have known him as something else,” Mai answered.

“Big scar on his cheek, also a real cutie, gold eyes,” Ty Lee explained.

Smellerbee thought for a moment. Could they be talking about Li? She hadn’t seen him in such a long time. Since Ba Sing Se. But he was the only person who fit the description.

“What about him?” she asked, still suspicious of this woman’s motives.

“Look, I don’t care about your fighters or what you’re doing. I just want to know if he’s okay or not,” Mai said. “I just figured he might have ended up with your group.”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, feeling she owed this woman at least a _little_ something. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Ever since he was in Ba Sing Se.”

Mai’s normally unmovable face shifted for a moment, but ultimately went right back to her normal, firm lines. She stood to straighten her robes.

“I’ll send the guards to get your friend,” she said. “Though probably won’t be for very long.”

“Thank you,” Smellerbee murmured, somewhat despite herself, and Mai exited without a word.

“Bye cutie,” Ty Lee mused and followed close behind.

* * *

Crash landing had not been what Jet had expected to happen, but hey, he’d take it - Because Zuko had landed on top of him. And even though it had hurt a little, it was still pretty hot. Especially the little groan of pain Zuko did, which probably shouldn’t be hot – but totally was.

“Hey, pretty boy,” he murmured and waggled his eyebrows, and Zuko’s cheeks immediately went blood red as he scrambled to his feet.

“If you two are done making out,” Sokka said, brushing the dirt from clothing. “Help me push this balloon into the water.”

“We’re not-“ Zuko started to protest.

“Yeah, yeah - whatever Zuko,” Sokka interrupted, then averted his attention to the balloon.

Jet eyed Zuko and smirked, mouthing ‘ _he knows’_ teasingly a moment after, effectively making Zuko want to jump headfirst into the boiling lake. His cheeks would probably be _less_ hot in there.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Zuko murmured, trying to ignore Jet. “Because there’s no turning back now.”

* * *

“You have ten minutes,” a guard said, to which Smellerbee rolled her head towards the door. That woman had kept her word. She almost couldn’t believe it when Longshot walked through the bars, and the guards unclicked the shackles he had behind his back. He rubbed his wrists and nodded what Smellerbee knew as his thanks, then averted his eyes towards her. He looked relieved – and also, surprisingly, a little angry, though she wasn’t sure as to why. That was one emotion she hadn’t been able to fully pin down with him yet. It wasn’t something he showed often.

“Longshot,” she said with a weak smile, but he didn’t smile back. Only strut with long strides towards the bed. With him closer, she could see he had a brace on the fingers he used to pull back his bow. They _did_ break them. Perhaps that was why he was angry.

But she learned, very quickly, that that might have been the stupidest thing she’d ever thought.

He ripped the sheet back and bore his eyes into her, and his nostrils flared at the sight of her split lip and bruised, frostbitten and bandaged skin. It made her want to hide, when she’d never wanted to before. It was frightening, Longshot silently losing his composure.

“I’m – I’m okay,” she managed to say, somewhat sheepishly. More air than words.

He inhaled a breath and finally looked her in the eyes.

“You’re… you’re not mad at me, are you?” she asked, her mind running back to her telling him she _hated_ him, and her stomach flipped.

His eyebrow lifted, and his face softened like butter, immediately settling some of her anxiety. He wasn’t mad at her.

“Are your fingers okay?” she asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, more gingerly than she’d ever seen. He lifted his hand and shrugged in response. They will be.

She tried to lift herself to meet him, but grimaced as she did. He waved his hands at her, telling her to lay back down, but she wasn’t one to give up so easily. He sighed and reached his arm out, and she took it, pulling herself into a sitting position.

“I know, I know, I’m a little stubborn,” she said before he could chastise her any further.

He raised another questioning brow.

“Okay, really stubborn. Don’t rub it in, Longshot,” she scolded.

He smiled a little, which made her stomach somersault like it always did on the rare occasions he smiled. But she didn’t deserve it right now. She’d gotten him into this whole mess.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a murmur, feeling the need to say it now before the chance to was taken away.

He raised a hand to his chest. It was his fault too.

“No, it’s not, Longshot!” she scolded. “It was my idea to come to the Fire Nation. You should have left me!”

He raised a brow and shook his head. He’d never do that. Never.

She sighed, because she knew it was true, and looked down to her hands in her lap. “I don’t hate you,” she said lowly.

He chuckled a little, and her eyes shot up to see what was so damn funny. He looked at her out the corner of his eye, amused, and she could feel the blood running to her cheeks. He never believed it in the first place, and was entertained she felt the need to let him know.

“Get outta’ here with that, Longshot,” she scolded.

He smiled and shrugged.

“We gotta’ find a way outta’ here,” she said in a whisper. Time was dwindling. This conversation needed to move.

He nodded. They will.

“They can’t keep the Freedom Fighters in prison. It’ll never happen,” she whispered, a little smugly.

He smiled and nodded again. Not in a million years.

“Soon as my leg gets healed a little, I’ll come find you,” she whispered.

He gave her a suspiciously stern look. It better heal _all_ the way before she does.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Hopefully that other women is gone and I can come out of solitary soon anyway.”

“Times up,” the guard said.

“That wasn’t ten min-“ Smellerbee started to protest, but was interrupted by Longshot pulling her into a gentle hug. She blushed a little, but hugged back anyway. Who knows when she’d see him again?

“Soon,” he said against her hair, answering her silent question, then withdrew without another word.

“Be careful,” she said as he stood.

He gave her a curious look over his shoulder.

“I know Longshot,” she said, somewhat amused. “You should be telling me that.”

He smiled as the guards put the cuffs back on his wrists.

Soon.

* * *

“I hope these disguises work,” Zuko said lowly, smoothing out the guard uniform, trying not to eye Jet who was currently still putting his uniform on _nauseatingly_ slowly, shirt off and smirking at him; Waggling his stupid, perfect eyebrows when Sokka wasn’t looking.

“We just need to lay low and find my dad as soon as possible,” Sokka said.

“How are we gonna’ do that?” Jet asked.

“I’m – not sure yet,” Sokka said.

“We should just ask someone,” Jet suggested.

“Look, I’m leading this. Not you. We can’t just _ask_ someone,” Sokka argued.

Jet looked at him for a moment. “Why not?” he asked, not all that unreasonably.

“Guards! There's a scuffle in the yard. Come on!” a guard called from down the hall.

“You guys go handle that,” Jet said. “I’m gonna’ go find someone to ask.”

“No,” Zuko argued. “We can’t split up. It’s too risky!”

“Trust me Zuko,” Jet said. “I just gotta’ find a female guard and make her gush her pants, and I’ll get us all we need.”

“Jet--,” Zuko scolded.

“Just like I did your sister, Sokka” Jet added, smirking.

Sokka made a disgusted, choked angry noise.

Zuko coughed on his spit.

“Shut _up_ , Jet!” Sokka spat.

“Just come on Sokka,” Zuko said, pulling his arm before this could accelerate anymore. He looked over his shoulder and mouthed ‘ _be careful_ ’, to which Jet smirked and threw a thumbs up before turning on his heels.

“Oh yeah,” Jet said, then smirked to himself. “Hey guys!”

Sokka and Zuko looked over their shoulders.

“Number one rule of prison,” Jet advised, still smirking. “Don’t drop the soap.”

“Shut _up_ , Jet!” Sokka and Zuko scolded simultaneously.

* * *

Jet’s booted feet padded across the grated walkway, his eyes searching through the guard helmet as he passed cell after cell. Where to find an unsuspecting guard to flirt with…

Oh, not a guard. But someone. A girl in pink and another girl in red robes heading his way. They looked pretty important, as far as he knew.

He pushed his shoulder to the side just a tad as they walked passed, just enough to brush the girl in pink and get her attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, smiling under his helmet. “Didn’t mean to bump you.”

“It’s okay,” she chirped.

“Say, think you could help direct me?” he asked, a little flirtatiously. The girl in pink smiled. The other rolled her eyes. “I’m new around here.”

“Well, sure,” the girl in pink chimed.

“Ty Lee,” the other scolded. “We don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll only be a second, honest,” Jet chimed back, effectively making the girl in red roll her eyes once more.

“Where are you trying to go?” Ty Lee asked.

“I’m looking for the guard lounge,” Jet answered, leaning against the railing oh so casually. “But I think I found something more interesting. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Ty Lee blushed a little. “Oh, you know, business stuff,” she chirped. “Why don’t you take off the helmet. I bet you’re a real cutie under there.”

“Ty Lee-“ the other scolded once more.

“Much obliged,” Jet said, then slipped off his helmet, holding it under his arm.

“Wow, you’re not cute! You’re gorgeous!” Ty Lee chirped, clutching her hands to her chest. This was way too easy.

“Oh, well I wouldn’t say _that_ , but,” Jet said with a smirk. “Say, someone as interesting as you ought to know this place pretty well. Any prisoners I should keep an eye on?”

“Well, they’re all pretty scary,” Ty Lee said, thinking for a moment. “But I think you could handle them.”

“Yeah, I heard there’s some rough ones,” Jet said. “War prisoners, that kind of stuff.”

“Oh, yeah!” Ty Lee chirped. “There was this girl that came in a few days ago. She had these red marks on her face, but I don’t think she’ll be too much of an issue. She seemed pretty nice.”

_Red marks? Can’t be…_

“Oh yeah?” Jet mused. “What was she like?”

“Kind of a tomboy. Seemed too young to be a war prisoner, but she had a whole division of Fire Nation-“

“Ty Lee, that’s enough,” the girl in red said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably classified,” Ty Lee said with a soft smile.

“We have to go, excuse us,” the girl in red said.

Jet swallowed a silent lump in his throat. _It can’t be… it just can’t._

“Well, thanks for your time,” he tried to say as level headed as possible.

“See ya cutie!” Ty Lee chirped as they began to walk away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been Slack-a-lackin' on my Lao Tzu quotes. So, here you go. 
> 
> “Success is as dangerous as failure.  
> Hope is as hollow as fear.”  
> ― Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

Jet was in a state of mild panic, to say the least. His heart thrummed in his chest, his head swishing from side to side in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the group he now suspected was here. His gang. They had to be here. They _had_ to be.

A rendezvous with Sokka and Zuko would have to wait, as much as he knew Zuko would give him grief for it later. He was never one for patience. His usual charm was slipping, replaced with urgency – evident in the fast pace in which his feet clanked atop the metal grates of the prison's many platforms. His eyes scanned for any amount of evidence, anything at all. He thought he saw another guard eye him in suspicion, but perhaps that was just his paranoia pushing in the way. He sat it aside. His eyebrows furrowed, and he focused.

Cell after cell passed. Stranger after stranger sat behind the metal slots he peered inside when no one was looking. Each cell left a deeper pit in his stomach. Each one another waste of his time. Another dent in his dwindling cautiousness he was trying to withhold.

That's when his feet stopped for him, his eyes having to catch up to his body's reaction. Two guards were transporting a man across the walkway. He was curiously naked looking without his usual blue garb and straw hat, replaced with thin red prison cloth, his arms shackled behind his back. But there was no question who it was. Jet knew that stoic ease anywhere he saw it.

Longshot.

It took everything inside of him not to burst across and free him immediately, but all that would ensure would be him getting thrown in beside him. He had to think this through. He had to be smart. He had to get everyone out. He had to get home to Tikka.

Jet waited for the guards to escort Longshot into his cell. He mentally noted to himself which number it was before entering into the guard lounge. A gullible guard with a set of keys. The two things simultaneously shouldn't be _that_ hard to come across.

* * *

By the spirits, he'd done it. Who knew guards just left their keys laying around while they stuffed their faces? Well, then again, why wouldn't they? It's not like maximum security prisons got infiltrated all that often. Jet smirked as he exited the lounge, the keys gripped tight in his fist that was shoved into his pocket. This was the kind of good luck he could get used to. He almost wanted to whistle a happy tune, but everyone knew joy wasn't allowed in prison, so he kept it to himself.

But of course, for no other reason than _of course_ , his luck didn't last long. Two guards across the walkway were escorting someone _else_ into a cell this time. Someone with shortish, shaggy black hair and a scar on his face. Because _of course_ he leaves Zuko alone for an hour and he'd _already_ gotten arrested.

Jet sighed and pressed his face into his hands. Well, guess a rendezvous was required at that point.

When no one was looking, he slipped the metal slot of the door open and called inside.

"Zuko?"

"Jet?"

With no further prompt, Jet nimbly slipped inside the tiny cell; the sight of Zuko in a red prison jumpsuit only making the situation feel even more pressing. Now, it was up to him and _Sokka_ , of all people, to rescue not one, not two, but _at least_ three people from a maximum-security prison. And he didn't even know where one of the rescues in question even was.

"My gang is here," left Jet's lips before he could even think, his arms out to his sides and his ears ringing. He needed to think, but his thoughts were muddied with a mix of anticipation and terror. His gang was _here_. His gang thought he was _dead_. The sudden realization left a pit the size of the Marianas Trench in his stomach.

Something on Zuko's face shifted, softened even, at Jet's apparent panic. He didn't like to think he was easy to read, but right now, it didn't even matter. Zuko took a step forward and laid one of his hands on Jet's shoulders, which was only slightly trembling.

"Calm down, okay?"

 _Calm down_? How on Earth was he supposed to do that?

"They think I'm dead," Jet said, "I _was_ dead, Zuko."

And that made Zuko visibly wince, for reasons Jet couldn't quite understand at the moment.

"You're not," Zuko said, probably for lack of anything better to say. "We'll get them out, too. They'll be happy to see you."

Of all the things Jet considered his gang would be if he ever saw them again, he doubted it would be happy. Angry, distant, or even resentful maybe, but he took the comforting words for what they were.

"Sokka's dad isn't here," Zuko added as Jet tried to calm his breath, "But his girlfriend – or something, is. We can all figure this out together."

"What happened to you?" Jet said, finally realizing that he hadn't even thought to ask how Zuko ended up in a cell.

"Cover blown," Zuko answered, then looked down to his tattered prison outfit. He unconsciously lifted his hand to his scraped chin, which Jet didn't fail to take notice of. "Sokka's fine though. We'll just have to work together. Find a place where we can all talk."

"They hurt you?" Jet asked without thinking much about it. It would occur to him later, just how comfortable he had grown lifting his hand to Zuko's face, or spilling his unease to him, or his subconscious want to comfort him too, all without thinking much about it. He rubbed his thumb down the line of the scrape, which probably made Zuko blush, he realized, but it was much too dim to tell.

"I'm fine," Zuko said, then reached his hand to cup it over Jet's, lowering it down to their sides once more. "Do you know where your gang is?"

"Longshot's in a cell," Jet answered, feeling a little more at ease with Zuko's guidance, "I don't know where Smellerbee is."

"Talk to him and figure out where she is," Zuko answered, and Jet nodded. "Find a place where we can all meet, and we'll figure it all out. Okay?"

"Okay," Jet answered, feeling his heartbeat return to somewhat normal; thankful that, at least sometimes, Zuko could be more level headed than him.

"Be careful," Zuko said, for the second time that day, and meant it just as much as the first.

"I should be saying that to you," Jet answered, then smirked, and Zuko scoffed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, though, in agreement.

"I know I am," Jet said, then wrapped his hands to Zuko's waist, which felt tense under his hands, the thin red prison cloth not doing as much to hide him as his other clothing. Zuko turned his head, probably blushing again, but ultimately didn't pull away. "Sokka's not here," Jet added.

That brought the edge of Zuko's lips into a small smile, though, and his body shifted onto the weight of one foot. "Yeah," was all he said in response, which was permission enough for Jet. He pressed his lips to his and parted them briefly, not nearly for long enough, and withdrew hesitantly.

"I'll be back soon," Jet said when his eyes flittered open, his lips still within the distance of a breath, feeling a little more confident, more at ease than he was before. How Zuko, hotheaded Zuko, could always have this calming effect on him, he wasn't sure. But he liked it. Counted on it, he realized. That even in a cell, Zuko could make him feel unconfined.

* * *

The tight knot in Jet's throat had returned rather quickly on the way to Longshot's cell, and for a few moments, not long enough for anyone to notice though, he stood awkwardly outside the cold, metal door. Normally, how he'd make an entrance was easy to him, but now, he wasn't even sure what to do with his hands. He settled on forming them into sweaty fists at his sides and tried to keep his chin tall in the air.

The metal door slid open, and Longshot shifted on the bed inside, looking ready to defend, but cautious to do so. Jet tried to say something along the lines of _hey_ or _long time no see_ or something else that was casually inappropriate, but nothing seemed to really be able to pull out of his mouth, the words just hovering there, like the awkward placement of his hands at his sides. Longshot looked to him curiously, waiting on the guard that had just entered his cell to say _something_.

"Uh," wasn't what he had meant to say, but it was good enough for the time being. Instead of words, he lifted his hands to his helmet and slid it off, holding it at his side. Longshot would get the point. He always did.

Longshot's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at him, the realization washing over his features quickly.

He made a small, choked noise at the back of his throat, like he was going to say something out of pure shock, but knowing Longshot, he didn't. Instead, he sat upright on the bed, his brows still furrowed as he stood. He walked the distance slowly, as still calculating what was happening, and looked Jet's body up and down.

"Hey, it's me," Jet said, the nervousness evident in the way his voice cracked on the "it's". Longshot didn't judge him for it though, only smiled one of his rare, beautiful smiles, which melted Jet to his very core. He _was_ happy to see him, and that hit Jet where it hurt. He felt the tears prickle in his eyes, the lump forming in his throat that of joy instead of unease, as Longshot threw his arms around him. Jet wrapped his arms around him too, the familiar embrace of a long-lost friend dissipating the strain that had enveloped his muscles.

"I missed you," Jet said, and Longshot nodded in agreement on his shoulder.

Longshot was never one for physical contact for very long, and pulled away to look him in the face.

"Where's Bee?" Jet asked, and Longshot's face stiffened. That made Jet's heart drop to his feet. "She's hurt?" Longshot nodded, but not urgently. Hurt, but would be okay. "She's here?" Another nod.

Jet sighed and rubbed his palm across his face. "Infirmary, I assume?" Another nod.

"I'm sorry," Jet said, and Longshot shook his head. This was their doing, not his. "I'm gonna' get you out. Don't worry," Jet said, disregarding his comforting non-words.

Longshot nodded, then smiled a little less sadly this time, more one of confidence. Jet smirked at the hint of mischief, one that strangers wouldn't be able to notice.

"Meet me by the stairs when they let you out. I'm gonna' find Bee."

* * *

The infirmary wasn't too hard to find, with a little inconspicuous asking around. A little harder to get into though, the few nurses they had not nearly as lenient to strange faces as the regular guards. But if there was one thing Jet was good at, it was getting into places where he wasn't supposed to be. A few doors slipped past and a couple nurses nimbly avoided, he was well on the way inside. The room Smellerbee was in wasn't hard to find, the bars on these doors much easier to see into than the small metal slots of the general population. A few cells of injured ruffians later, and he'd found her.

A little to his dismay and a little to his comfort, she was rolled on her side facing the wall. Asleep or not, he wasn't sure. She didn't look all that injured, at least from the waist up that was uncovered by the white blanket, which made him feel at ease. He watched her chest rise and fall for a moment before realizing he was standing very visibly in the hallway. A shuffle of the keys in his pocket later, and he slipped inside.

"What do you fucks want now?" she snapped without rolling over to look.

Jet smirked a little despite himself. She hadn't changed a bit. But he knew, Longshot was the easy one of the two. At least Smellerbee's anger was as amusing as it was comforting, at least, when it wasn't directed at him. But he knew, it would be in just a moment. Because casually inappropriate Jet had returned, fueled by his previous encounter.

"Oh, you know," he said as he stepped towards the bed, then mentally prepared his cheek for the slap he was about to receive. "Heard there was a pretty cute new prisoner, and I thought I'd check her out."

Smellerbee went still, her breath catching in her throat. She knew that voice anywhere, but it couldn't be… Rolling on her back slowly, she gasped at the sight of the ghost standing in her room, leaning casually on one leg with his helmet on his hip. Smiling like there'd been no time passed between them at all. Like he hadn't died right in front of her.

"Jet?" she said, barely an audible squeak. She swallowed, hard, and tried again. _"Jet?"_

"That's my name," Jet said, then smiled toothily as Smellerbee's face went milky pale, the red lines on her cheeks standing bright red on top of it. Oh, she might pass out… Shit, she might _actually_ pass out. "Hey, take a breath, why don't ya?" he said, waving his hands.

"Jet?" she said again, and forced air into her lungs with a long inhale. Jet stepped towards her and looked down.

"You're not real," she said, mostly to herself, furrowing her brows and giving a fake, painful, exasperated chuckle. "This is a dream. They must have drugged me." She sat up with a wince and pressed her face into her hands, shaking her head gently to make this all go away. What kind of torture was _this?_

"I'm real," Jet assured lowly, no ounce of playfulness left, then reached his hand out so she could touch it. "See? Feel."

Smellerbee looked up from between her fingers, eyeing the palm that was outstretched before her. She looked for a moment, then lifted a shaking hand to run her fingers down it, gasping when her fingers actually met something tangible – and she withdrew her hand as if she'd touched hot coals.

"You died," she breathed, trying to make sense of it all. "I grieved you.."

"I did," he agreed, "And I know. I'm so sorry, Bee."

"Am I dead?"

Jet chuckled sadly at that. "No, the Fire Nation could never take us. Remember?"

"Then how?"

"Katara and a little magic water, I guess. I'm not sure how it all worked, if I'm honest."

The tears prickled at her eyes, finally and painfully, the words getting lost in her throat. "You're alive…"

He smiled bitter sweetly, then sat at the edge of the bed. She was still looking at him like she was looking through him, but at least she was trying to hold the tears back. He didn't think he could handle it if she'd let them flow.

She took a deep breath, then reached her hand to touch his cheek. He let her and smiled at her, which in hindsight, was probably a bad idea. It wasn't seconds later that her hand reared back, and slapped him, hard, hard enough to turn his head to the side. Damn… he thought he might have gotten out of it.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" she scolded, her voice cracking, the tear finally rolling down her cheek. "How could you be so fucking _stupid_?"

Jet ran his tongue along his cheek, surprised to find that he didn't taste blood. He couldn't even be mad. If anyone deserved to slap him, it was his gang. Looking to the floor, he felt every ounce of guilt hit him all at once.

"I'm sorry," he said again, then swallowed, pressing his eyes shut. "I'm trying to be better. I _have_ gotten better… for real this time."

He was glad that Smellerbee pulled him into a hug, he really was. But the tears that drenched the cloth on his shoulder nearly broke him. Not wanting to let it show, though, he wrapped his arms around her tight and let her cry her silent cry.

"I'm gonna' get you out," he said, and she nodded barely enough for him to feel. "I promise, but for now, I have to go."

"I missed you," she croaked in response.

"I missed you too," he said, then reluctantly withdrew. "I have so much to tell you. I have a _baby_ now."

Her eyebrow perked. "…What?"

"I'll tell you all about it later," he said, to which she frowned. "Give you something to look forward to," he added, to which she smiled despite herself.

"Just find us a way out, dumbass," she murmured.

* * *

The buzzer rang, and the cells doors to the general population opened. Sokka and Jet waited patiently near the staircase for the crew to arrive. Slowly but surely, the area was filled with prisoners and chit chat. One by one, everyone that was supposed to meet up did. Jet smirked to himself as Zuko chatted too casually with Suki about burning down her village as they mopped, and Longshot kept to himself in the corner, listening intently and eyes darting between everyone. The only one he recognized besides Jet was Sokka, and even that was just barely. And... was that Li? What had Jet been up to this whole time? Who were these other strange faces?

Jet listened to Sokka, the planning man, do his planning. Something about using a cooler as a boat and what not. He probably should have been listening more intently, but he wasn't used to doing the listening and not the ordering.

He didn't even really notice when another prisoner, Chit Sang apparently, decided he wanted to be in on it. Sighing at the interruption but not thinking much of it, he kicked himself away from the wall to pay more attention. He kept to himself mostly, letting everyone else figure everything out. It wasn't until they suggested _Zuko_ be the one to get stuck in the cooler, that he genuinely started to pay attention.

He wanted to protest, he really did, but he didn't. Eyeing Zuko from across the group, he could tell that Zuko was dead set on it. He had to trust that he could take care of himself, that he wasn't helpless, as much as he wasn't comfortable with him being shoved into a literal freezer.

Longshot took notice of the glances, but ultimately said nothing, as always.

* * *

"I can take you back to your cell if you've learned your lesson," Sokka said, opening the door to the cooler and looking down at the surprisingly not shivering Zuko.

"Yes, I have ... completely," Zuko answered with a smirk, holding out a shirt full of nuts and bolts.

"I got Suki, Longshot, and Chit Sang out of their cells a few minutes ago. Jet's gonna' get… whatever her name is, out of the infirmary. They'll be waiting for us at the shore," Sokka informed as the sound of a door opening a chit chat sounded in the distance.

"Someone's coming!" Zuko whispered, pulling Sokka into the cell and peering out the crack.

"Yeah, new arrivals coming in at dawn," a male guard said.

"Anybody interesting?" another asked.

"Nah, just the usual. Some robbers, a couple traitors, some war prisoners, though I did hear there might be a pirate… and something called a Freedom Fighter, whatever that is."

"No fooling!"

"War prisoners? Your father… and a Freedom Fighter? I thought they were all here!" Zuko exclaimed.

"No," Sokka said, then rubbed his chin in thought. "There were a couple at the invasion. The Duke got away but the other one, the big guy, got captured with the rest."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think about it, okay!" Sokka defended, "There were a lot of people there."

"We gotta' tell Jet," Zuko said.

* * *

Jet waited with the impatient group of prisoners at the shore, his foot tapping against the black rock. It was difficult, but not impossible, to carry Smellerbee out of the infirmary and out of the prison. He breathed a sigh of relief once they'd made it out.

The sound of a low rumbling from the cooler being rolled down the hill filled the air, and suddenly, everyone was here.

Chit Sang rolled his eyes. "Took you guys long enough."

Zuko approached Jet, who look determined to get out of there, and Zuko almost didn't want to tell him. But he'd never be able to live with himself if he didn't. They were just so close…

"Jet, I have something to tell you," he said, and Jet furrowed his brows in curiosity. "Another Freedom Fighter might be on the way."

"What?" Smellerbee and Jet said simultaneously. "How?"

"The big guy got captured at the invasion. We overheard some guards saying there were war prisoners and a Freedom Fighter coming in at dawn," Sokka said as he approached.

"Pip," Jet breathed. "Wait, you knew he was at the invasion too and you didn't say anything?!"

"Like I told Zuko," Sokka defended, "There were a lot of people there, okay!"

"Jet," Smellerbee interrupted. "We can't leave him behind."

"No," Jet agreed as he turned to Smellerbee and Longshot. "You guys go, I'll stay behind for Pipsqueak."

"We can't leave you either," Smellerbee protested, then Longshot laid his hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to look to him.

"Longshot, can you carry her?" Jet asked, and Longshot nodded.

"No!" Smellerbee protested again. "We just found you again and –"

"Bee," Longshot murmured, interrupting her. "He's our leader. We have to trust him." He nodded to Jet, who looked prideful and dumbfounded all in one. Jet could always count on Longshot.

"I'll be fine Bee," Jet said, then smiled as reassuringly as he could. "You guys get to safety. You're injured, you need the easy way out."

"Damn you, Jet," Smellerbee said, then hugged him tight. "Be careful, okay?"

"You got it," Jet said.

"You go. You've been here long enough," Sokka said to Suki.

"I'm not leaving without you Sokka," she argued.

"I'm staying too," Zuko said, catching Jet's gaze. Jet didn't particularly like that, but there wasn't much he could do besides nod. Zuko wasn't in his gang, he couldn't order him around.

"If we're all done cuddling," Chit Sang said, "Let's roll."

* * *

The four staying gave their last farewells and waited for the gondola to creep across the wires. Jet's foot tapped in impatience, Zuko waiting behind him, Suki holding Sokka's hand as his eyes glued to the immovable object.

That's when a hair-raising alarm rang through the prison. The four's hearts sank, and they all looked to one another.

"The plan failed. They're caught!" Sokka said solemnly. "Look! The gondola's moving. This is it. If they're not there, we've risked everything for nothing."

Jet swallowed the lump in his throat, waiting for the damned gondola to fucking get there already. Shit, shit, shit.

The gondola's doors opened, and one by one, the prisoners exited. Not him… not him… not him, _fucking not him_.

Then, when all hope was lost, second to last before Hakoda, came Pipsqueak. The Not-So-Gentle Giant. The Gang... was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, ya'll. I know this chapter took longer than usual. Had a lot going on lately.  
> Love you guys and as always, your comments are life fuel. Much love to you and yours- LaoTzu
> 
> Also, I made a Tumblr (Someone told me to market or whatever, so I'll give it a shot. But I'm too old to know how these crazy sites work) Follow me or whatever it is that people do on tumblr
> 
> https://laotzu-1.tumblr.com/post/644601225453715456/show-chapter-archive


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” ― Lao Tzu

Images dances in Smellerbee’s head as the boat was dragged to shore, that of being strapped to another interrogation chair, her wound ripped open again as ice frosted over her at the bottom of the cooler. She couldn’t do that again, _refused_ to, but as her, Longshot and Chit Sang were swamped by a fleet of armed guards, she was destined to believe that that would be her reality. That this place, this prison that went against everything she stood for: freedom, would be the end of her.

She could only hope that Jet would figure this out, that Pipsqueak was on the horizon. That this place would not be the last thing she ever saw.

* * *

Jet knew there was no time to waste. He refused to let Smellerbee and Longshot go back in a cell. He strut through the prison, breaking away from Sokka to find their respective new rescues. Zuko slipped off into hiding again, back to his cell with the rest of the prisoners.

The alarms eventually stopped ringing, and the red lights above them stopped flashing. He could only hope that Smellerbee and Longshot went quietly as he searched for the giant.

* * *

It wasn’t long before guards were dragging Zuko from his cell, surely, he thought, for his role in the escape attempt. Thankfully, Sokka had spit out what he was trying to say before being taken away, and hopefully, Jet had been relayed the same message. Meet in the yard in one hour.

With too much force, the guards threw him into a room, landing awkwardly in an empty interrogation chair. Though, they didn’t strap him to it, to his surprise, just shut the door behind them.

“Wait, stop!” he tried to protest, “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Zuko,” a familiar and haunting voice said from the shadows, “We all know that’s a lie.”

* * *

With a bit of slinking around, the giant was found (thankfully, the big guy wasn’t hard to find), but Jet wasted no time thinking or contemplating what to say this time. He simply ripped the keys from his pocket and swung open the door.

“Pipsqueak,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

“Who’s-“ Pipsqueak started, but Jet cut him off quickly by removing his helmet and going on a quick tangent.

“Listen Pip, I know this is probably a real big shock right now, and I promise, I’ll explain later, but right now, we need to move,” Jet said all in one breath.

“Jet?” Pipsqueak said, his voice low and lumbering, “When did you become a prison guard?”

As much as Jet appreciated Pipsqueak’s more… _simple_ outlook on life, now was really not the time.

“I’m not _really_ a prison guard,” Jet explained, “I’m breaking you out.”

Pipsqueak blinked his eyes at him for a moment, then a big smile wrapped his lips. He stood and lumbered over to Jet, towering over him by at least a foot and a half, his too small shirt hiked halfway up his stomach. Without prompt, he picked Jet up in his massive arms, squeezing the breath out of him with seemingly no effort at all.

“Pip,” Jet breathed, his arms dangling helplessly beside him, “Can’t breathe, bud.”

“Sorry,” Pipsqueak chuckled, releasing Jet from the suffocating bear hug and lowering his gasping body to the floor.

“I missed you too,” Jet said, inhaling air back into his pressed-out lungs, “But right now, we gotta’ go.”

“Okay,” Pipsqueak said, thankfully with no further argument or questions, “What do we need to do?”

“We’re finding the others.”

* * *

Spirits, was Pipsqueak a big mother fucker to be trying to sneak out of a prison, but thankfully, Jet spotted Sokka down the hall and waved him down.

“Spirits, Jet, what are you _doing_?” Sokka scolded as the three huddled around a corner.

“I thought it was obvious,” Jet said, throwing a hand out to Pipsqueak, who smiled in response.

“We’re escaping today, on the gondola,” Sokka explained.

“Well, duh, that’s why I’m getting everyone out their cells,” Jet said, “I’m not waiting around anymore!”

“You can’t just go around doing things!”

“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?” Jet snapped.

“Urgh! You’re impossible! Just meet us in the yard in an hour!”

“Uh, guys?” Pipsqueak interjected, “There’s people coming.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jet hissed, pushing the giant towards the nearest cell. “Pip hurry get in!”

Sokka tried to worm in behind them, but was quickly cut off by a guard calling after him. “Hey, you, the warden wants to see you!”

“Shit,” Sokka hissed under his breath. He turned around and played it cool, though. “Why?”

“He wants so see you _now_ ,” the guard reiterated.

“ _One hour_ ,” Sokka hissed into the crack in the cell door, and Jet nodded silently behind it.

* * *

“Mai,” Zuko said, standing up from his chair, his hands out, pleading for understanding, “I never wanted to hurt you. But I _have_ to do this, to save my country.”

“Save it?” Mai scoffed, throwing her hands out, “You’re betraying your country!”

As much as it hurt, Zuko wouldn’t back down. _Couldn’t_ back down, not now. “That’s not how I see it.”

* * *

Longshot and Smellerbee were both strapped to chairs in the same interrogation room, which was one of those rare strokes of luck that Jet liked to come across. Time was dwindling, though, the hour in which they were all supposed to meet coming too quickly. Luck was dwindling too; it was only a matter of time before someone spotted three random inmates being transported by a single guard. Thankfully, Pip could carry Smellerbee without much effort or loss of strength at all, so they had that going for them.

Jet went to Zuko’s cell too, and much to his dismay, he wasn’t there.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed under his breath for about the umpteenth time in the last fifteen minutes. They spent the _next_ fifteen minutes bobbing and weaving around patrols of guards when the prison was supposed to be on full lockdown. One guard to spot them was all it took…

Clanking down the metal walkway, out of the corner of his eye, just barely, he caught a glimpse of Zuko in an interrogation room.

* * *

Zuko’s head hung low, not being able to take much more of this from Mai. He wanted nothing more for her to just understand, but how could she? None of this was her fault, none of it at all. The hurt in her eyes was unbearable, and he knew, that some of this reaming, he quite deserved. He could have done something different, _should_ have, but in the end, he did what he did to protect her. Just hopefully, she could find it in her to forgive him, eventually.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from outside the cell, an urgent waving of hands. He looked up to meet it, and _fucking spirits_ , if it wasn’t Jet waving him down from outside. Mai’s eyes were still bored into him, so he had that going for him.

Well, until the red lights started flashing from outside and the prison alarm started going off, then of course, she turned around, and Jet went still like a deer in headlights.

“Oh, this guy again…” Mai murmured, and Zuko’s eyebrow perked.

“You… you know him?” he asked.

“Some creep that was trying to get in me and Ty Lee’s pants,” Mai explained, and Zuko thought he could just die right there.

Jet looked off down the hall, and a sudden rush of movement and clanking sounded from outside. Zuko waited for a split second, then the face of a guard was being slammed into the metal door. He slid down slowly and hit the ground, then Jet, with one swift movement, threw open the door, stepping over the unconscious guard to call urgently inside.

“Time to _go_ ,” he said between his teeth, and Zuko took the opportunity of the moment of shock Mai was having to rush out the door, slamming it closed behind him before she could react.

With one last look through the metal slot, Mai eyed him with eyes full of fury and betrayal, ones that he’d hoped to never have to see, but he was helpless to it - and turned away.

The rush of inmates running around was cover enough; Sokka must have had found a way to let them all out. But that wasn’t the worry right now, the worry was getting to the prison yard through the swarm of flustered prison guards and hyped-up inmates.

The group turned down a hall to hit a dead end blocked off by guards. “Stop right there!” one of the guards said, then brandished a sword in front of him.

“I got this,” the big guy said, then turned to hand off the girl to the archer (Zuko should really try harder to remember these guys’ names).

Pipsqueak cracked his knuckles in front of him and approached the group of four armed guards as casually as he’d approach a kitten. Their eyes went wide as he did. “Stop right there, I said!”

Pipsqueak only chuckled the threat off, and the guard swung at him, but the giant’s hand caught the guard’s arm before it could make contact. With one fell swoop, he swung the captured guard into the other guards so hard they piled into one another, and turned around for the group to admire his handy work.

“Good job Pip,” Jet praised, and Zuko couldn’t help but to wonder where this fucking guy had been the whole time. Pipsqueak gingerly took Smellerbee back into his arms as gently as he would hold a newborn, and the crew were on their way, stepping over the piled-up guards in their wake.

Around the corner, and the space had become curiously more closed off, probably a corridor for guard use only, but from the look of it, a much quicker route to get to the prison yard. With one down side: no where to run but straight, and no where to hide unless they wanted to cram into a storage closet. They were here now, though, and time was of the essence.

Half running down the hall, and a voice stopped Zuko dead in his tracks, Jet having to turn around to see why he had stopped.

“Well, well, well,” it purred, “If it isn’t my treasonous older brother.”

“Azula,” Zuko breathed without having to turn around, and his eyes furrowed. “Jet, go, get out with the others _now_ ,” he ordered with more urgency and authority than Jet had ever heard.

“Brother?” Jet asked, unfazed, then looked to the woman who had her arms casually folded on her chest, smiling a wicked grin as she sauntered towards them. The girl in pink from before was hot on her trail, looking much more serious paired with the daunting woman in black and gold armor.

“Jet, I’m serious, they’re out of your league,” Zuko said, stepping in front of the others and going into a firebending stance.

“Longshot, take the others and find Sokka in the yard,” Jet ordered, and Longshot nodded. The group of three freedom fighters reluctantly turned and continued down the hall.

“Be careful!” Smellerbee said over Pipsqueak’s shoulder, urgency and pleading in her tone as they crossed the threshold to outdoors.

“Jet, please, _go_ ,” Zuko said, and Jet shook his head as he brandished his hooks in front of him.

“No way,” he said, and Zuko grit his teeth.

“I should have known,” Azula said, straightening the folded fabric on her wrist. “That you’d be in cahoots with such a pathetic little group of street rats.”

Jet’s hands tightened around his swords, and Zuko took a quick glance to him. “Don’t let her bait you,” he murmured, and Jet nodded almost immeasurably.

Azula took another step, slow and casual and uncaring in her pace. “Let me guess,” she said, curling her fingers over her palm to observe her sharpened nails. “Your little group has some sort of revenge fantasy and a sob story under your belt. Which one is it: lost your family in the army? Or is it that they were slaughtered in a raid?”

“You _shut your mouth_ ,” Jet hissed and took a step, his teeth grinding together, and Zuko had to place his arm out to keep him from moving forward.

Azula smiled, unfazed by the vague threat. “What’s this, brother? Made yourself a little friend? How sweet. How well do you know him, though?”

 _Better than you,_ he wanted to say, but didn’t. Azula was trying to rile him up. If he showed he cared for Jet, well, more than he was suddenly realizing he already had, then she wouldn’t hesitate to end him. Which, he also hadn’t realized until now, seemed an unbearable reality.

“Twenty-two sound familiar?” Azula asked, turning her attention to Jet, who’s eyes lowered in confusion. Azula met the look, mouth curling into a wild smile, too many teeth in it for it to feel sane. “That’s how many fire nation soldiers were assassinated by your little group of ‘fighters’. Wonder how many came before? The one’s we don’t know about-“ And with that, her eyes snapped back to Zuko. “What an _honorable_ group you’ve joined, dontcha’ think, Zuzu?”

_Azula always lies. Azula always lies._

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jet snapped, his voice lowering, defensive, but with a wavering that made it seem she did, in fact, know _something_.

_"What – what did you do?" Zuko asked, thinking nothing could be worse than what he did._

_"You don't wanna' know," Jet answered, a little quietly. "If you did, well, you wouldn't want me standing in your room. But that isn't me anymore, and you aren't you anymore. So, just give it time."_

If there was one damning quality about Azula, it was that her lies always had some hint of truth. “Do you know how he got that scar?” she asked, addressing Jet, but eyes still glued to Zuko’s.

“Stop it, Azula,” Zuko said, and Jet couldn’t help but to look and see Zuko’s eyebrows furrowing together. What was he hiding?

“He got it because he’s weak and pathetic,” Azula continued, pushing her advantage, “And now he’s weak _and_ ugly, just like your little friend I threw in the cooler to _freeze.”_

“ _You,_ ” Jet growled, his fingers wrapped so tight around his swords they were turning white.

“Of course, it was me,” she said, uncaring and smirking. “I’m also the one who ordered the mute’s fingers to be broken. He wasn’t so quiet then.”

Something inside of Jet snapped, his lips stacking in a rabid snarl, and he was on his heels before Zuko could react to it. Azula smirked, readying herself in a stance as Jet charged towards her, swords uncrossing with a wicked metallic sound out in front of him.

_He’ll never make it if she bends. The whole hall will be engulfed._

So, Zuko did the only thing he could do as blue fire flicked from Azula’s fingertips. He swirled fire with his feet, sending a low, weak wave down the hall and towards Jet. It landed home, and Jet’s feet flew from under him, and he landed heavy on his back a second before Azula’s blast flew right over him. Jet had just a moment to realize the scorch marks on the ceiling that ran down the walls, just stopping barely above where he laid on the floor. The blue flames roared towards Zuko behind him, and with a stern wave of his hands, the fire dissipated.

“Jet, get up and run!”

But he didn’t have the chance. Ty Lee flipped over Azula and into the fray, landing with her feet on other side of Jet, preparing her fingers to jab into his pressure points. Unfortunately for her, Jet rivaled her in speed and nimbleness, quickly rolling his body to the side and using the weight of his body to knock her leg, off balancing her for just long enough to scramble to his feet behind her.

She turned and jabbed the air, he dodged easily, swishing to the side long enough to connect his swords together. A difficult move to pull off in the narrow hall, but he needed reach on her. If she hit him with those jabs, it was over. He took a chance, calculated for a split second, and sent the hook at her ankle. It missed as she hopped backwards, landing behind Azula once more. Azula smirked, and readied again.

He snarled at her, but not for long. Heat and light, orange and blinding, filled the hallway next to him as Zuko approached from the rear, his arm out and hand balled into a fist, spewing fire like nothing Jet had ever seen, twisting and curling as it roared towards Azula. His eyes went wide as he backed behind Zuko, for good measure, because Azula had sent her own fire their way.

The two energies met in the middle, creating an explosion fierce enough to send both groups rocketing backwards down the hall. Zuko crashed into Jet’s chest as they flew through the open door to the platform, and they skirted across the metal, Jet’s hand barely catching Zuko’s as they were forced off the side.

Pain, white and blinding, tore through Jet’s shoulder as his hook caught something on the platform above, and they dangle there, the blue sky above and cold metal below.

Zuko could barely hear the shocked gasps below over Jet’s screams of pain, but one voice broke through, just barely.

“Let go!”

He looked down, and the crew had gathered, Pipsqueak waiting with arms out and ready to catch them.

“Jet, we gotta’ let go!” Zuko called upwards, and Jet nodded, letting Zuko slip from his fingers. Zuko looked up as he fell, watching in slow motion as Jet tried to untangle his hook from the platform, and Azula came, covered in soot and snarling, to look over the railing.

Blue fire _, no,_ blue _lightning_ , crackled from her fingertips, aimed straight down at Jet just as his hook tore free and he began to fall, and Zuko’s eyes went wide with terror.

Before the deadly energy could leave her fingers, a flash of red and black stopped her in her tracks, sending deadly precise knives her way and pinning her shirt to the rail.

_Mai._

And then he was being caught, Jet soon following, both making loud _oofs_ as they made contact with the giant’s arms.

“Come on! We got the warden! We gotta’ get to the gondola!” Sokka voiced called as the sound of Jet’s hook clattered to the metal, which was picked up by someone Zuko couldn’t see.

They were safe. For now. But Jet’s arm was in bad shape, evident in his wailing, but there was no time. Zuko hooked his arm through his other, and the team ran, limping but alive, to the gondola.

* * *

The gondola moved way too slowly over the lake, but thankfully for them, Azula was quite busy at the moment. Zuko could see Ty Lee _and_ Mai now giving her a go, but that wasn’t his concern at the moment.

Jet’s wailing had subsided to groans of pain and a lot of sweating and swearing by the time anyone was able to get a good look. And that person, was of course, Zuko.

He peeled the fabric back, which made Jet’s lips peel back in a snarl. “ _Fuck_ , man.”

“It’s dislocated. We gotta’ set it back,” Zuko said as calmly as he could.

“Do you even know how to do that, fire bender?” Smellerbee snapped, and Jet winced, raising his other hand to calm her.

“Let Longshot,” he murmured and Zuko nodded, letting Longshot slip in and observe the injury, never having felt more helpless in his life.

Longshot kept calm though, as always, and set it firmly back into place. Jet let out a high-pitched yelp that stung Zuko’s ears, followed by a lot of groans, and much to Zuko’s dismay, a few tears. He quickly was back at Jet’s side the second he was able, not really caring at that point what everyone else had to think.

Jet’s eyes were pressed shut, his breathing heavy, but after a second, he opened them and met Zuko’s. He gave a tired, halfhearted smile that Zuko assumed was supposed to be reassuring.

“You know,” Jet said, then winced. “That’s the second time you’ve almost fallen to your death since I’ve known you. You should probably work on that.”

Zuko swore to the spirits once that fucking arm was healed –

“Look, it’s an airship!” Sokka called, leaning slightly over the railing to peer over the mountain.

“Must be Azula’s,” Zuko murmured, hesitating to take his eyes off of Jet for just a moment before standing to confirm. Yep, that was a royal airship alright.

Their ticket out.

* * *

Zuko waited patiently from outside him and Jet’s room, watching as Katara’s blue light lit up and died down, lit up and died down again. Smellerbee had gone first, her arrow wound being the more dire of the two injuries. So Zuko had been waiting for a least a couple hours in silence, leaned up against the stone, listening to Jet groan and Katara chastise him.

“How _dare_ you leave your baby with me for _three days_?”

“I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t know it would take that long!”

“And _then_ , you come back all _banged up_ like I wanna’ heal you after three days of babysitting _your_ baby!”

Zuko smiled as he listened. At least he hadn’t had to do the yelling at Jet himself, and he was slightly thankful Katara’s wraith was focused on someone else for once. Tikka stirred in the little bundle of furs next to him, long been asleep as the night progressed. Everyone else seemed a little busy for her, and she wasn’t much bother anyway. So, Zuko waited with her, trying himself not to fall asleep.

“I’m. Sorry!”

“Well, all I know is – is, is you _better_ find someone else to do it while your stupid arm finishes healing!”

Before Zuko could dwell on that statement too much, Katara ripped back the rolled door, sending daggers with her eyes at Zuko before turning on her heels down the hall.

“Is he okay?” he asked softly, despite her clearly not wanting to talk to him.

She blew a puff of air out her nose, paused, and looked over her shoulder. “He’ll be fine,” she said softly, not nearly as angrily as he’d expected, more empathetic than anything. She seemed to consider this for a moment, then put her mask back on, snapping “Go see for yourself,” a second later.

All things considered, it was a pretty good interaction, and Zuko smiled as she continued down the hall. He looked down to Tikka, who Jet surely was missing at this point, and paused, suddenly realizing he’d… never really picked her up before. The only reason she was this close now was because Katara had deposited her there before going in to scold… _heal_ Jet.

Well, he supposed it had to happen sooner or later. He scooped her gingerly, doing everything in his power not to wake her. She stirred a little, and she was heavier than he’d expected, but not bad. She really was a beautiful kid, like a porcelain doll, and he carried her into the room with the delicacy of one.

Jet took pause from flicking his wheat back and forth between his teeth to smile at them from the bed. He was shirtless and staring at the ceiling before, and raised hand in a beckoning gesture. Zuko complied, and sat Tikka into the little cradle Jet had created with his good arm.

“There’s my girl,” Jet murmured, smiling giddy to himself as he took a look at the sleeping child. He looked up to Zuko, who’d crossed his arms, standing awkward beside the bed.

“Smellerbee and Longshot took your room,” Jet informed, and Zuko raised a brow, wondering _well, where the hell am I going to sleep?_ But not wanting to say it out loud. It’s not like he could kick the kid out of the bed, after all.

Jet smirked at him, seeming to read his mind. “Right here, stupid,” he said, shifting with a wince to scoot closer to the wall.

“Jet, you don’t have to-“ Zuko started, then Jet shot him a look, which shut him up pretty quickly. Jet pat the edge with a smile, and Zuko sighed.

Zuko shimmied himself into the small space, his chest pressing against Jet’s side as he slid under the blanket. Jet smiled as he scooted down, gesturing with his eyes that Zuko lay his arm so that he could put his head on it. Zuko blushed, but complied, and so they lay like that.

There could be a tornado outside, and Zuko didn’t think it could wipe the smile from Jet’s face, which brought up something warm inside him that he hadn’t quite expected. He sat there looking at it for a moment, relishing in how beautiful it was, before feeling the heat rising to his face, and he averted his eyes to stare at a thread on the blanket.

“I got my family back,” Jet said warmly, softly, and it was probably the most affectionate tone Zuko had ever heard him use. He looked up from the thread, expecting Jet to be looking at Tikka, but instead met his eyes, and something shifted inside him. Jet chuckled at whatever look had washed over his face.

“You’re laughing at me,” Zuko murmured, suddenly self-conscious.

“No,” Jet argued, then smiled. If he had a hand that was free, he’d probably run it down Zuko’s cheek. “I just find it funny that anyone could ever think that you’re pathetic. Or ugly.”

Zuko stomach twisted, and he pressed his eyes shut. “Jet, I don’t-“

“It’s not true, you know,” Jet interrupted, and there wasn’t any indication that he wasn’t being genuine, but still…

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Zuko murmured, lifting his eyes to meet Jet’s that were looking at him sympathetically.

“Okay,” Jet agreed, then tried one of his reassuring smiles. “When you’re ready.”

“Same for you,” Zuko said before he had much time to think, and Jet’s smile faded for a moment, then returned bright as ever.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a tumblr, so follow me there or whatever, you know, if you really want to
> 
> Tumblr URL: laotzu-1.tumblr.com


End file.
